Time whet itself on the sword edge
To become new for the days to come
That reveals the precious things of heaven
And the earthen things that lies beneath.

As a man does not prepare for a thief at night
When the dew distill on the green grass,
So shall life be to the unprepared souls
That sleeps when the day can still bear fruits.

Why do the ancient mountains last,
And the lasting hills retain their might?
Does the world holds its breath,
When the bow is bent and the arrow is let loose?

Time is like a warrior that respect no one;
He moves to and fro on the vast land of earth
To test the resolve and mastery of men
Until they fall or rise above their pain and fears.

Who shall fall? Who shall rise?
How many times shall the gong ring,
How many times shall the choirs sing,
Before we truly understand the test of time?

©Okunola Peace.