Time's Wife

I was younger than Time
when we wed, but since, I fear,
I have aged. My skin droops
shamelessly from my bones,
my body thin and cripple,
I hobble this way and that.

Our daughter, Life, came
just following the vows,
and the flowers went abloom.
Yet soon she had a brother,
with whom she quarreled some,
despite our interference.

Our son, Death, was born
not far after our her,
and began his reign at two,
he, I swear, has not matured
in mind or body since,
slaying any and all for a laugh.

Yet Time and I pass the years,
watching mortals change and grow,
never knowing when Life
will breathe and set them free
or Death will cough
and take them.