The grave.

Time will never grow old enough to have wrinkled skin or grey hairs,

it will never part with dying bone nor flesh

It passes through the light and darkness as one does blink and breathing form

It escapes in moments truest The coldest days and warm

It comes by with gratitude an underlying cause of strength

Yet weakness is it doesn't stay
And it comes to its digress

What would time say if so to speak, would it welcome, or wave goodbye

Would it pass on slowly and pay it's tribute to the grand and open sky

For all the clouds they roll on by, and time it knows so well and true

that nothing can escape such things, as time and loving you

The parting moments cherished, the meeting of our eyes fond glance

In every single melody of song Time would take that dance

But time it knows so little of death, undying strength , yet brave

For nothing hurts us more than memories, those of love once met the grave.