As geese
In chevron
Flow through
Sky

Let me be
In each moment
In each beat of wings

And depart

Without a trace

There was a boy in a cave
Fearful that he wouldn't be saved
He would never know if he would be missed
Never know a tender kiss

He had followed two boys underground
"ssh" they said not a sound
Then they pushed him to the ground, tied his hands, tightly bound
Ran away and left him there, they were not nice they didn't care

The game they played was Hide and Seek, the boy in the cave was mild and meek

The boy was there for what seemed like days then suddenly, was he dreaming a sunny haze, or had he ended his young days alone in the cave, unable to be saved.

A ray of light beamed upon the floor
Shone bright upon an exit door
The boy began to hatch a plan but first he needed to break free his hands

He found a rock and set about setting himself free
The boy became ecstatic hoping to be home for tea
It took a while but the binds did break, he shuffled to the door
Grabbed the handle, opened wide and ran outside
What greeted him was a lovely surprise, he couldn't believe his eyes

He had not expected to be missed but clearly through the rising mist he could see his family with tears in their eyes, giving thanks to the heavenly skies

The horrible boys well they went on to grow up mean and bad
They lived a life of loneliness and were very sad

One day, the three did meet, the Cave boy now a man, walked right up and shook them by the hand
"Thank you" he said  "what you did turned my life around, i now have a family and a home built underground" .

If he knew are ever move
            from breath to the grave,
he knows which paths will impend us
                                          to that fiery end.

If he knew it was coming,
and planned it himself.
         Then he is not omnipotent
                   but the devil himself.

Two sides of a coin,
                    that only fall on one side,
for if he was the father he has already cast us out.

Tempo of rhyme that has a distinct
             taste of perpetual numbness.
Where the rhythm of our moments
 counted down in  numeric breathes.

Antiquated concepts as in the fluidic
                         verses of where we are,
                                      Where we were,
                              and our culmination.
Momentary between noise and silence.

We are all constructs of visible passing,
within all are finite chimes
                     in the existence in eternity.
The chimes of passing never really ring,
        But shatter within, ending our time.