Become

As time slows, 

I rush, less and less...

And the things that once mattered, find a hollowness..

And as time rushes, I slow...

Knowing all points have receded...

For there is something deaperate in the air, the kind that calls for something needed. 

And the needed thing, may never occur, 

In just one night alone..

So as I slow..

I make such a place, 

For what's needed to become my soul.