Post by stormwolf on May 10, 2008 17:29:22 GMT -5
Stormys a poet and didnt even know it... until:
Time. It is as boundless as it is endless. It is the time of our life as we wander its immeasurable loop, ever taunting us with its games of what is, what was, what should be.
The time we share and the time spent alone, it is the time that passes us bye that is never unknown. Time after time, it is a wonderful thing, as we count down our time on its playful strings. It makes us feel that are we moving through time but lets us know we are only along for the ride. Circles come and circles go only too exchanged by change which makes us grow. It is our pathway through our universe that forever leaves a deadly curse. With time comes age, an unfriendly sort, It brings great grief when it falls short. We strive for a way to stay its hands, but time has its way every time it can. So we pass on our memories through the great cycles of life. So that maybe our children can learn from our strife. As the clock strikes down our eleventh hour, our youth becomes our greatest power. But again and again its cycles end, only to begin once again.
Stormy
Time. It is as boundless as it is endless. It is the time of our life as we wander its immeasurable loop, ever taunting us with its games of what is, what was, what should be.
The time we share and the time spent alone, it is the time that passes us bye that is never unknown. Time after time, it is a wonderful thing, as we count down our time on its playful strings. It makes us feel that are we moving through time but lets us know we are only along for the ride. Circles come and circles go only too exchanged by change which makes us grow. It is our pathway through our universe that forever leaves a deadly curse. With time comes age, an unfriendly sort, It brings great grief when it falls short. We strive for a way to stay its hands, but time has its way every time it can. So we pass on our memories through the great cycles of life. So that maybe our children can learn from our strife. As the clock strikes down our eleventh hour, our youth becomes our greatest power. But again and again its cycles end, only to begin once again.
Stormy
