In the abyss of existence, a behemoth lurks, unseen,
More monstrous than sharks, werewolves, or ghostly screams.
It's the ravaging march of time, a merciless assassin's stride,
Devouring moments, hours, and years, with an insatiable, cosmic pride.

The passing of moments, a deathwatch countdown to oblivion's gate,
The nearing of death, a specter that haunts, an eternal, soul-crushing weight.
The clock ticks on, a funeral dirge of mortality's refrain,
As the fabric of time disintegrates, and the abyss of eternity remains.

HURRY, MORTAL, HURRY! For time waits for NONE,
And the darkness that awaits, is FOREVER, FOREVER, FOREVER WON.