Sometimes I think of time as a river,
Flowing freely and ever clearer,
Sticks and stones may block your path,
Some may drown, even under their own wrath,
Yet I gaze on those who still swim,
Gasping for air but real conviction,
I started to sink but I see it now,
The depths of the bottom pulling me down,
Sudden surge to the surface the sun is high,
Feel the warmth as I heave a heavy sigh,
Horizon is clear we swim with purpose,
Sticks fall free, stones are worthless,
Eclipse that feeling with something new,
The hopes and dreams left to pursue,
Buried deep in lion's slumber,
Awoken to roar with mighty thunder,
I feel the fire a passionate rage,
Cast away that mental cage,
For silence is death to the new age
