The Hourglass Collector

I stare into time, as if it isn't alive.
And I wonder what to do with it's lifeline. If it is.
If this is it.

How much more oxygen is left in it's tank,
What new characters will arrive in the chapters of my life next year.

This could just be a prologue to another prologue.
And i'm the only reader.

I light a candle every night.
And meditate into my soul.

I see my own light, and ask it questions.

But the final answer, doesn't seem to be around.

I'm ready to live my purpose,
But I don't know what it is.

I stare into time.
Living in dreams, because I don't know which one is mine.