The Onus of time
From perhaps not the
****  of Labyrinth,
But the wrinkles of time
Not Like the twinkles of star
In the sky afar.

The rose of time
Not given to man like a
Dose of drugs, rather free
For his glee
Not even with a plea.

The ocean of time
Swim or row your boat on
For each tide rise and fall without
Giving a dime
If only there is a rhyme of reason
Then a dine with time.

A tree planted in time
Stands also for a sand of time
And time calls, nevertheless runs too
For in urns lie Man whose time elapsed.

Then in time
A make of bed
For any time missed is a
Wrinkle of understanding.