Passing Time's Existence

Losing track of where I'm looking in the distance for the horizon that I'm trying to get through. Listening to church bells ringing through a morning mist, as melodies take me racing into waters of rapidly flowing rivers. Never ceasing their rhythms as they rush along banks of earth, passing time and it's existence, roaring into their futures without fears of failure. Being assured of victory over all trials ever gone through so far in this pitiful stretch of life. It's forlorn shores of tired boredom and insincere positions of those who pretended to be honest in love are over.