Time... Such a swine

The Unstoppable roll of dice…

That bird sitting on the branch of a tree was once a hunter

With the sharpest vision and the instinct to kill

Alas many moons ago when it had a steely will

Wasn’t he swift to make its move?

An epitome of strength and in the groove

But as they say time takes its toll

The stifles and strife do dent the body and soul

With age you grow strong, with age you lose it too

The swine that the time is, keeps rolling the dice

Some turns you cherish, some you despise

So is the fate of the hunter

Who sits on the same branch of the tree looking so frail

Weak of vision and no more with that instinct to kill

Alas with many moons passed, diminished the will

A pitiful stance and no more groove

The one who ones hunted, becomes the prey

Such is the fate of creatures all

Life is abundant with highs and lows and the final fall

The circle of life bends to time

That unstoppable roll of dice, by the swine


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