As the sand falls

If I came upon an hourglass;

Where time flowed from what could;

To what is, then to what was once;

And held in my open palm the sand;

Of joy, sadness, loss, and redemption;

Would I want to know what story the grains;

Yet to fall would tell?;

Or would I wait for time to etch;

The story of my life, where each chapter;

Held but mere foreshadowing of the next;

And was the author, the emperor of recluses, preparing for an;

Eleventh-hour twist?