Trickle down into the sand.
Time has shed a tear and dies within.
Pausing to breathe life into a life.
We give up time to create time.
The glass shatters and bleeds purpose onto the floor.
And as the blood drips, it trickles down upon the sand.
It creates crimson buds of life upon perception.
But that life does not grow, it only trickles down death.