Forgotten moments of the past,
Unknown the remnants of tomorrow –
Is it so strange that I have lost
The meaning of my only sorrow?
The sorrow I have felt when time
Reminded me – all will be gone…
But why? – Is living such a crime,
That time must come when it’s withdrawn?
What use have fleeting dreams of life,
When every moment passes by,
When in the midst of endless strife
You walk so low while dreaming high?
The time, some say – it even heals!
And teaches us, and helps us grow!
But in the end, it always kills –
Much is unknown, but this I know…
What was before the time begun?
How did it start, when, where – why?
What will become when time’s undone?
Will someone miss it, perhaps cry?
I have an old clock on the wall –
Each day it must be brought to life
So that the hands will slowly crawl
And help the evening to arrive.
If time is similar perhaps
Then someone must have started it,
But then, one day it will collapse,
No longer able to submit –
Each one of us to walk alone,
Kept separate by time and space –
Oh, wicked tyrant, cease, begone!
Where there is time, there is no grace.
Leave a Reply