So does everything she bowls
There is never a fixed position
In a wandering time we drift along
Moving from known to unknown
Out of somewhere life came
Onto somewhere life goes
Air is but a currency of time
Life a debtor to time
The unlimited limited air
Alas with time it goes
Into oblivion the lifeless accounts
That phase, am most sure
Is graded according to the profit in air
Death brings life
Life brings death
As a seed dies to spring up
And all living, lived to die someday
One brith another, another ...... and another
Tili the end of all ends
That day of a static Earth
All will stop and take after her manners
But, the likeliness of its occurrence
Is like an illusion of a dream
Yes, illusion of a distant dream it is.
« return.