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The Way Of Time
The hourglass of eternity slowly twists,
Letting the grains of fate fall,
And fall they do, tumbling,
Through the transparent crystal ball,
For they trickle slowly, then ever faster,
The rough drops struggling to be free,
First a drop, then a stream,
Until it becomes a shifting sea,
Then the last grains fall through,
And the hourglass is still,
Until it is to be turned again,
At Mother Nature’s will,
For the sacred sands of fate,
Combined with the spinning eternal glass,
Form a paradox, a twisting cycle,
Of time that will yet pass,
It will grind down proud mountains,
Into tiny, rugged stubs,
It can uproot the oldest trees,
And suck the green out of grass and shrub,
It can suck up the sea,
And then hurl it all out,
It can obliterate the land,
And cleanse it without a doubt,
Its actions might be whimsical,
Its motivation is truly insane,
It can shock winds and blow lightning,
And pour forth-evil fire rain,
The world is an open book,
Each one of us a letter,
Together we shall make the phrase,
That time shall make better,
It is the judge of life and death,
It defines our path of life,
Whether we shall live and die happy,
Or struggle through a sea of strife,
Its power is majestic,
Its control has no boundary,
Its impact is unlimited,
As long the hourglass is still turning,
It is the ultimate God of all
It changes the whims of the world,
And however the hourglass may shake,
The sands of time will still swirl.
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