[word rush: write something quickly but don't check it]
Time is a storm that sweeps me up in its fury
And passes too fast for my liking.
The world takes this to its advantage
And destructive change wraps me up
So that I am cold and unfeeling and lonely
But in moments of self-awareness
I realise that the world is a little too harsh
A little too unfair
A little too dangerous
But only underneath an expansive blanket of stars
Bursting from clouds of ancient dust,
Do I feel a little comforted.