Killing Time & Damaging Eternity

Time slips by,
Exsiting as it always has.
Yet the endless ticking no longer serves a purpose,
Other then to be a meaningless reminder.
Paying no attention to the ever moving hands,
I live my life, or so, I believe I am.
Reliezing time has run too rampat annd too far away,
An attempt to redeem the wasted moments is set forth.
Yet my efforts are to no avail,
As the centuries old ticking and tocking, seems not be effected in the slightest.
Eternity, rather that is my eternity has been damaged,
Too much time has been killed by my hands.
The thumps of my heart match the perfectly set rhythm of the clock,
Am running after time, almost able to grasp that vast concept which I underestimated.
Millions of grains,  of course sand spills from the hour glass and through my aged fingers,
Time has shown me it's purpose a moment to late.
The ever rotating circles in which it spins, was to remind me that life doesn't have to happen all at once,
Not that it doesn't have to not occur at all.