El Tiempo, El Implacable, El Que Pasó

Time, the implacable
The one that passed
Always a sad trace
It left us
What a violent seed
Was forged
We will carry its mark
Indelible

Clutching onto things that stopped
Is to be absent a bit
From life
Life that is so short
Apparently
When things have been done
Unintentionally

In this brief cycle
That we go through
Each step is taken because
It's felt
When taking stock
We are already leaving
And life passed
Without us realizing

Each previous step
Leaves a trace
Far from being erased
It incorporates
Into your sack so full
Of memories
That when least expected
It emerges
Because time
The implacable
The one that passed
Always left
A sad trace