A fool in this land,
Which spins completely out of hegemony,
Restricted only by cosmic rule,
A phony in this surreal life of ours.

We walk amongst this terrain, oblivious,
Of course we have our dominance,
But we know there is something we caulk,
Our defense, our only hope, we hide.

Do you really think we cannot be stopped?
That we control our luck?
Ha, Do we really wait for cues?
All Chucks we are, bleak roads we follow!

We spin through space,
And time is our owner,
Past and present we defend,
The lure of false futures tempts us ahead.

But we only exist short term,
A sub-existence of time,
Past our frail thoughts, we cannot see,
The chime in which we are created.

Time is everything,
Tempo, age, measure, and soul,
For without time, there would be nothing,
A dull oblivion, empty.

But, alas, time cannot die,
The only immortal, notable,
This fool, it will pass,
On, infallible as it was and always will be.

Time is exorbitant, it knows no passion,
Inanimate, yet it controls us,
A limit of your life, time that is spent.
Respect the fashion of it’s gift.

Spend everyday listening to it’s music,
And every minute of it with your love,
Listen and receive, if you obey,
A dove of time, Life is a gift, so spend it well.