The wealth of time
That will stir and grow
Is greater than
Any man can know.
For all his words,
He shall never sieze
Or grasp all 'Life's
Oppurtunites.
The sun will set
On another day,
Leaving the man
To drift astray.
And when a thief
Comes and slits his neck,
He'll fade to be
But another speck.
The lines of men
Shall come and go
Just as the tides
Ebb and flow.
