Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
Crookèd eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.

-Shakespeare, Sonnet 60

Yes, I left out the last 2 lines coz they're not so applicable to me or my thoughts now.

...

No matter how I kick and thrash and attempt fruitlessly at fighting it, tomorrow's still gonna come.

So I should serenely accept that there is a time for everything and now the time for play has come to an end.

It is time to study.

Sigh, why do I feel so rotten...