The flower wilts

The torch light dims

The pebbles lose their shine.

The steady march of time and space makes vinegar from wine. 

From dawn 'til dusk

The sun arcs west

We fear the coming night.

Stave off the dreary, niggling thought; we already lost the fight. 

It has been a really long time since I have written any poetry - ironically, it has been because I have been too stressed to do so.... usually that's when I write best. Anyway, my apologies and, though I realise this is quite short, I hope it "Stimulates" something in you.