Life is a descending Clock

Dont you think that everything about your life is a dead set time of every action of your life

Life is a clock. The constant seconds lowering your life bit by bit.
From the moment you are born until the precious moment of that last breath you take.
The choices you make is based on a die.
You can say you are unable to escape fate.
The predestined steps are planned out like a list upon a role within the limited time you have.
God doesn't play this way.
No God is someone who knows what God has in store for us.
Walking on the clear, fragile path seems impossible but it isn't not until you try. You can bring a dog and make it through.
Maybe an elephant and it will still be kept in tact.
But when you walk alone there is no turning back.
The mask that is built on lies and tends Stays that way.
They keep coming and coming until that mask is stuck on you forgetting who you truly are.
Life is a clock I say and I have a lot of proof to be reasoned with.
You never walk alone
Each step is with someone or something to help you along the way.
Everyday people are alive or dead.
Heaven and he'll are getting crowded but no one ends up in purgatory.
People are on the borderline of life and death
The so called Valhalla
Day by day
Hour by hour
Within each and every hour people move leaving traces behind like past footprints walki g in a straight line
From light ton dark every single time
Would you imagine you yourself having Wings.
I can
My wings have been stained not a whole lot but just enough for me to slip into the black door
Every door I see is a never ending as we open a door one at a time there is nothing but a painted room
The center of it all is a big room enough for a thousand people and in the middle is a single window leading to a spiral staircase You step onto it and walk
Every step you take us the life experience you encountered
And every emotion you kept inside is safe.
Yes safe within those chains you call your heart.
This clock you see at the end of the stairs has a button.
That button is something you always have the urge to push and yet when you push it that is when everything ends
The hour hand
The minute hand
Even the seconds hand
They all stop at 12:00 that is the moment you are relieved of your goal on this unnatural world