The pulse of life cuts valuable diamonds. Rises and declines often cause despair or hopelessness. But, nature is wise and time is perfect. What is happening is what it should be, even if we don't understand it.
Time does not march at our pace, even if we want to, it marches towards the perfection of the instant and whoever wants to be above the decree will fail and crash at the evidence that we cannot control everything.

Sad ignorance, said negligence
a-stolen day on day—
too slowly roll the hours, O!
So soon the des'prate pray.

Slow or fast is what it is and not what we pretend it to be in our arrogance.
The images tell me of falling into a black hole, of vertigo in the fall, of darkness, of lack of north, of little progress.
There is something that is not flowing as the voice waits and makes him feel frustrated, stagnant.