It's a losing battle: merciless motion of hands
The subtlety of digits shifting shapes
Upon our wrists we keep the weights that drag us down
We're all defeated trying to keep up
With all these days and nights that run away
Dragging us all along with it, refusing to leave us unchanged
Merciless motion of hands, folding over constantly
Around and around, nobody can be certain of its form
Try holding on to something
Falling to bits and pieces
Everything's left traces and overnight winter arrived
Plucking even the last leaves with its burning cold
Time erases everything.