Beyond The Ticking Clock

What time is it? My heart crumbles a bit. It's 3 AM, and I'm up for something I can't stop blaming. Caught in a sense of confusion, Believing time is no more than an illusion. But what more is there to say? Beneath the sun, I hardly pray. Shadows showed things to be plain; Minutes lingered by the railway train. It takes me further than I want to go, Keeps me longer than I want to stay. Life's subconscious vapor, I know— Here today, gone tomorrow. No one's waiting, But what compels us to go? I don't count hours—do you?