English: Two girls playing the classic harp, Caracas, Venezuela. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Sing us the *song* of time
*Pitch* that widens our possibilities
*Lyrics* that spells out our boundaries
The *recording* of history and *playback* of present
Good days that have caused smile lines
Evil days that have caused scar lines
The *melody* of rewards and *tune* of consequences
Reminds us of the good seeds we have sown
Reminds us of the evil monsters we have spawn
The *harmony* of hope and *beat* of caution
Tells us where we were yesterday
Shows us where we should be today
The loud *volume* of the unseen yet real
*Rhythm* that God understands perfectly
A Being that runs the *scales* of eternity
P.S.: But the *sounds* of time we hear today
Will not tell us where exactly we are going
Will not tell us when our time will run out
Will not tell us when time itself will cease
Guns 001 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Who knows when the rain stops?
After the seeds have had just enough to grow and bring life to the earth?
Or after the flood wrecks properties and lives, that even none remains to know when it ends?
Who knows when the clock stops ticking?
After we die peacefully and leave this realm of “space and time”?
Or when it mechanically malfunctions and is condemned beyond repair?
Who knows when reading stops?
When we come to the knowledge of The Truth?
Or when we grow sick of seeking truth and/or think we know it all?
Who knows when the gun stops firing?
When man learns peace?
Or when all humanity has been forcefully laid to rest-in-peace?
Who knows when the long road ends?
Does it break at my hometown I have sought for long?
Or, at a homely cottage with a friendly psychopath-and-serial killer to welcome me?
P.S.: Who knows when the enchanted writer stops writing?
When all humanity has heard the message and learnt?
Or when he loses sight of the message and wanders off the path?
Do you know?