Every moment dies into the next

I'm going to try ripping out a poem right fast, I'll edit it later.

Every moment dies into the next
As a star died into me, I'll die into dust
As my cigarette dies into a butt
As the present dies into the present dies into the present dies into the present
Every moment dies into the next

Like melting glass or water freezing into ice
As the world grows wet and the wet world dries
Strangers die to lovers and love dies into hate
And lonliness to warmth to bitterness and scorn
And mountains into sandstorms and oceans into wastelands
Every moment dies into the next

And hopelessness to love and deserts into gardens
Rotting logs to mushrooms, flowers and worms
Eyes turn into tingles, and I begin to shiver
Lies turn into savage wars and everything that's different
I turn into nothing I could ever have predicted
Never knew the way these changes could have painfully tickled
Lost like a turtle left in low tide awaiting an easier life
In the sea