Dragging Time

I'm dragging Time along, in a rough clothed sack.
Time is dragging me along, grating against that old dirt road
At the end of the road, there is only an abyss
And a thin rope to salvation.
Yet, the bright screens have blinded my eyes,
numbed my sight,
such that even I have began to worry, that I will not grab
that thin rope in time.
Oh, this heavy sack.