Time

There’s nothing innocent about the clock, Nothing hidden from sight, No one can outrun or evade its hands, From the day deep into the night, No… time is tainted, immoral, corrupt, Time is so full of sin, Time allows all that’s impure, As it happily walks off with the wind, Creating more chaos, turmoil and pain, Creating disorder from out of the order, Hugging entropy with both its arms, Making the harmony shorter, As time saw all that’s ever been done, It walked by watching the wrong, Watching, not stopping, not pausing to help, Nope, time keeps tick tocking its song.