Time

...How it dreads its own moves,
And how it struggles to keep behind,
But how it dares fall apart each time,
And how no one approves,
And how its arms stretch too wide,
And how its seconds run out of time,
When will it stop moving at all?
One step after, two before.
Never, may it be so, but how can I tell?
How can I see the one that winds it,
How can I see the one, will we meet,
How can I picture myself in this light,
How can I see the wrong instead of right,
Where is the peace, the solitude,
What do I now thus conclude?