Wisdom doesn't come from time,
no,
Wisdom comes from those who see a light,
yes,
Wisdom is a thing to be feared,
yes,
Wisdom can be the final end of existence,
no.
This poem is a centipede,
yes,
it crawls on it's hands and knees begging for knowledge,
no,
it crawls because it has forgotten it has feet to stand on,
yes,
it crawls because it is scared,
no.
The centipede crawls because it knows no other way than
.This.