A Bloody Metaphorical Mess

If you held on to the minutes, collecting seconds to pick and steal
Would you shape them into a master piece?
Perhaps the world would look worthwhile tonight
If we were held together by whim

And if our blood were to spill
Maybe skeleton keys might dance again
they might shine again
like they ought to.

If only your fingers could wrap around the hands of the clock
A break, a pause in time,
To spend fighting for chance
is that too much to ask?

I'm not sure exctly what I'm going for here. It's pretty abstract, and abstract tends to fall apart when you try to edit it into something structured.