Pensive Melancholy

A second's short, an hour - long,

We all charge through as days drag on.

Each breath we take, a choice we make;

Which paths to walk, and which forsake.

The days are long, the weeks are short

The moving time grants no retort.

As moments come, and hours change,

In what, will each of us engage?

The days are long, the seasons short

To what, does time make us resort?

The skills I've learned, the things I've made,

They’re purchases; with life repaid.

The days are long, the years run short

‘Til culminated; life’s report

As time goes by, I breathe, I sigh

Life’s lessons learned until I die.

Though days are long, each life is short,

A case is made in every court

As moments go, a life is passed

What consequence has life amassed?