Grains of Time

The pendulum discriminates Time as a
bastard.
Tick tock--Can you hear me?
These incandescent sands smother me
as if I were their own little
bastard.
Forgive for the forgotten time
   Dust me off, let me shine
Force me into a seperate vile,
   Daintly suffocate me, all the while
Ears are protruded with a familiar
Tick tock--You can't hear me.

This somber sea of emulsive sand
R(e)-a-i(g)ns down on me in a bottled land,
Where passiveness only builds the strain
Of senseless weight, grain by grain.