Minutes Past
Slow as can be
How time does fly
As a bird so free
Tick. Tick. Tick
Years crawl on
Twenty and counting
More unfound
In youth a fleeting
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Decades ongoing
Nothing remains still
Summer till spring
All life his its fill
Tick. Tick. Tick.
At the end of days
When movement ends
Time lays to waste
And life returns to God's hands
The final tick...
Before life begins...
Allahu Akbar.
No comments:
Post a Comment