Though I've always remembered this, I'll admit that it makes little sense. Still, I want to believe in it, as strange as it is. Time is a dark ocean. Life it is the light.
My bones to dust. Well what then of all that I've been? All that I've seen is only temporary perception. So many faces passing, there is nothing to do but let them.
I've seen my dreams come to life in a flash of light, then they're gone. The hand of the clock it is unstoppable. It whoops my hide like a drum. Until I am raw, bloodied and beat down. My oh my, it sure made a sweet sound.