time it has no middle no even place to rest it will continue on relentlessly and what is it that measures time the insistent unwavering ticking of a clock that was followed from a heart beat a steady reliable rhythm that haunts us all in our memories even if the clocks all stopped our heart then is the traitor measuring time ticking on and on until finally there is no end without death and so there will  always be time but we will never be immortal trapped in these blood beating beasts that seek to forsake us and taunt us when our minds are leaving and there is just constant thick red pounding ticking, ticking, and so we meet our end.
-Jules Ral