Stolen Time

It is time for poetry
The time stolen to ourselves;
The one coming from the nothing
Like the eternal waves.

It’s time to find the solely
Soul hidden in itself
Beyond the walls that only
A lonely soul can brake.

It’s time to run the cycle
And ride a wonder horse,
The wings of the Pegasus
Who flew the dreams beyond.

It’s time for some miracle
That always had its time.
It’s time for celebration
From water we got wine.

It’s time to write a poem,
It’s time to sing a song
Stealing from the labor
The time stolen from us.

And the time that we can make
From the time that it was made
Is the time of our triumph
If we live the present now.

Setting out the unfulfilled,
Disregarding foolish dreams
Sensing life is all we need;
Life is time of flavoring.
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