Seasons Of Time

A time to love,

A time to cry ;

A time to change,

A time to fly.

There is no true prediction -

What is time?

A concept of passage,

Of days and nights.

Mothers see -

Their little child,

Grow up fast,

Age, then die.

They play, they laugh,

In spring, they little know ;

Under mother's watching eyes,

They soon grow.

They learn the concept,

They learn the change,

Maybe sometimes late,

Or ahead of the game.

Settled down, figured out,

Plans made or found,

They think time now slows -

But it's autumn now.

Spring passed in a blur,

Summer came and went,

Their autumn shows now, signs

Of winter ahead.

Little by little,

They see drastic change -

No more, mother's eye ;

No more, it's passed by.

Their time comes too,

Their winter peak,

Sometimes with roots to show.

Even if not, someone speaks.

The final goodbye,

The wheel from zero, turned

A full circle till nine -

The seasons of time.

The Snowglobe

Fairylands don't exist,
You look at pictures and you wish
If you had wings, you could fly away,
Catch a fairy, make your day;

But nothing's what it seems to be,
A star or even this galaxy,
There is no beginning and no end,
Time is stuck and we are unpenned.

My life in unwritten as of yet,
My book is blank and pen's still wet,
My heart is gone and body remains,
Frantic headaches and startling pains.

Sleep forever, my dear friend,
Its the answer we come to at end;

And I am, my dear friend,

Always held close-

Trapped in a pretty magical snow globe,
It snows and snows and it's pretty from outside.
But you don't know the cold inside.

You don't know. The cold inside.