In time we were born,
In time we will die.
Time, a gift that was divinely given to man,
Equally to share in the course of life.
It is the currency that all humans spend,
To cry and to laugh, to sow and to reap,
To build and to destroy, to find and to lose,
To love and to hate, to be joyful and to be sad,
To speak and to be silent,
To be peaceful and to go to war.
Time passes and is locked away in a heavenly vault,
Where it is kept and only to be revealed
To whomever the Master pleases.
You may be called the past, present or the future.
Time oh time, how entangling you are.
No man can escape your truthful revelations.
Composed by me
Ref. to Ecc. 3: 1-8
