Time, I understand your anger. I understand that you take away all you can because you DO NOT get the reverence you need.
You pass by, piercing existence, rageful.
You want holiness but you are ignored and you are not loved, you don't know love
You are not fingerpainted with magic, with the beauty we know.
You understand us perhaps. But you cannont be understood, can you?
No. Because you dwell in the toolbox of god yet you don't give god a chance.
I will. And my brothers and sisters will. Growing under the sun to be weak, sick, stiff, but not alone, we will find our spirits and we will paint our existence with wonder. And you will see us.
Kiss and be kissed, time, because you make us whole just as we make you strong.
And we can love each other, stranger time. We can sing together beyond this sphere.