No one truly knows the age of the earth
And no one can phantom the exact year we are;
Diversities in calendars and the iota to
Lie in man proves me right.
History recorded in BCs and ADs
As many dated backs to the evolution of man.
The hand of the clock travels from the
South pole to that of the north;
Describing moments and defining seasons.
Today will surely become ‘those days'
And many shall remember it not.
I think and travel back to those days;
Those days of love and peace even though
The presence of evil was inevitable.

I need a messenger, interpreter
Who will take me to those days
When the gospel was more important than prophecy;
When fornication was a taboo and not appreciated;
When moetje was total shame and not cultured;
When decency was the identity of responsibility
And not that of...