Time

Between the mountains and the sun,

between the waters, still and run,

between the hills and valleys low,

there is a force, fast and slow.

Over the cities, towering high,

over the sea spray's whispering sigh,

over the places where clouds roll,

there stays something, part and whole.

Under the floor where everything grows,

under the paths where the river flows,

under the caves and caverns deep,

there waits a something, flat and steep.

It wears away mountains into hills,

and canyons which once were water-filled,

it turns a forest into a sand,

it changes and estranges every land.

It makes a shadow's life in a day,

it never remembers what you say,

it moves the sun under the ground,

and pays no heed to sight or sound.

This force will last from beginning to end,

and with no tool could break or bend,

what's this monster said by verse and rhyme?

well this my friend, this thing is time.