There is no time
As you time passes through
Eye's perpetual needle
And a basic understanding,
There are no seasons
That resonate forms and certain
Needs,
There is not enough time
For anger and happinesses,
Only that it remains equal
In the chaos of a a hurried
Mind,
A flutter into tornadic
Expressions,
A desire into a yearning fire,
Indirectly the season gives
A feel,
The cold winter she walked
Into the wind and her hair did
Not move, time does not beat
There, but arches into
A future,
That summer the sweat
Off your brow bought the car
Of a dream in a dream,
Carefully time snuck by
And perfected a moment's
Theory,
A man needs both time and
Stillness to recognise that
All is fleeting,
And the only thing real
Is the mist,
In the mist
A temporal moan.