Thursday, November 24, 2011
One rejects the knowing of a century, in time,
There the clocks are still as treachery, in this time.
The religion connives but contrives a thinking,
One darts forward to end the archery, in the time.
Remind us once more of this clock, a real piece,
One shakes into being due to this butchery, one time.
A feeling makes another one dry and then I go wet,
This felt good until times changed, into flowery of time.
Once upon a time, the real story of my life got defined,
Descriptions altered settings of our robbery in time.
This star I call myself negates surprises,
I feel towards the weak who keep the rubbery time.