A life once told ,
the diamond never sold ,
a feeling creeps in so cold,
I just wanna wrap up and fold.

Nowadays it's hot often,
and even it's a little cold often,
the transient seasons tell a tale,
which we ignorants always learn to fail.

it speaks of stories ,
unheard ,talkative flurries ,
a blowing stream ,of no worries,
but the time ,as always ,hurries.

time ,doesn't let us stay ,
or acknowledge and reflect,
what the situations teach anyway,
so grasp ,all of the blowing sand,
and learn to read omens ,
learn to read signs,
as fast as you may stand.

because, the time is authentic,
and unmanned,
and the tales, don't live
on the palms of your hand,

they don't reside ,on the palms of your hand...


© vanish in a blink