One week before first day
By a dream i was awaken
fourth wind in the garden
By the will of might made.

How long to sleep i asked
Thousand years did pass
In blink of the eye not yet
To be has done told open.

Ages of time none to tell
Nor even out to compare
dated a mean to moment
Of had the second to take.

Counted sixty of like steps
another on fingers of hand
O clocks facing to express
Within minutes hour made.

That comes to be for last
Of second in minute held
hours last minute the day
Day by we how a blessed.

Day of world to never end
Since sun a match lighted
At a spark across in black
Finger of the hand apointed.

Palms closed bit of matter
Havin time pressed against
Globe be a shape of velvet
Turn to collect all its made.

Records rolled like pictures
Captured its all found afate
World round of sun written
Of all proud and so as great.

Once the set be come to as
And history of lives to cast
Parts of heroes and villians
To come to see and conquer.

As once the end be to have
The worlds corners ashape
A king and hero and lovers
Every to come to be a man.

Of brave the wild bein fate
Hands of clocks hear clap
Claping the suns every ray
To soul to watch it together.

Projected on black canvas
First row seated old paint
History starrin a premiere
That 15 minutes of fame.