If life were a hundred years
I'd lose my name at the hand of time
and travel to the end of the world in advance
at the scoching border of hell I'd dance
to the delusion I was fooled to suffer
and glance back once more
to see I cannot ******* lover's lips
or let the majesty of a butterfly
steal my attention for eternity
I'd watch the gloom strip me off my shell
close to the border of hell
and ask if all along it were mine
can I then succumb in peace
break a ******* with God
and deride the masquerade he hosted?
that of which he always boasted!
But time and time again puts me to bed
with a mouthful of uncertainty
about the end of this entity
which I believed was me
or whatever me could be
life can embarrass time
and cease to age inside the corpse of years
or wilt the petals of a feisty poppy
That is the burden of those whom life endears
For that I sit here and wonder
why indeed did time go under?