Game Of The Clock Poem by George Samuel

Earth's past, present and future greatness,
Before you we cast all silent sweetness,
Grant us peace in your eternal jaws,
After we're Victor's and victims of your law's,
You may come swiftly and take us in your claws.

Before your slippery face, breath is cut short,
The burden of joy we thought it's sport,
And took the bait like a game of luck,
But perish finally by the music of the clock,
That rush gently blowing on our buttocks.

Sold to you in our infant cry,
Brought here like birds that cannot fly,
You made us feel at home like we belong,
Yet overtime we know it won't be long,
As time is so short, how can we be strong.

Give us all we dream as you lend us time,
Before we're wasted away in our prime
When life is so beautiful and free,
Like a flourishing Riverside tree,
Where water and blood seems to agree.