Killing Time

My life it fades
away from me;
Running its course
without consent.
The smoke...
she breathes me in
without remorse,
regard, dissent.
It's not a lack
that keeps me
wanting...time
itself.
Regret harvests time
before its due,
and nothing can be done
to save him. 
Wanting more is not
the case, rather wanting
now to last a day.
A day! you say,
is nothing missed
lo when it's lost,
tragic remiss.