Our time will come in a few days
Or maybe after ten years
But our time, it will come, have no fears
We will grow and we will glow
Life will be ours for the taking
and Life, it will be ours for the living
Maybe that day is today, but maybe not
Today is perhaps for mourning
To remember the lost, and for crying
Maybe today is for nostalgia
Bright days and darker nights
Times, lost even to memories, of so much life and brighter lights
Perhaps it is for sorrow
For those who lived their last
And for those who still, with regrets, last
For those who are left behind
Beyond the bridges burnt out of spites
Or just for the wrongs or rights
Because nothing lasts forever nor do no-one
But they leave behind their prints and their traces
of light worth more than the candles burnt, of their smiles and their graces
Traces sticking like dry greases onto our shirts and trousers
Not relevant anymore, yet a missing piece in the core
An unused guitar with a string broken, a sorry never really told
For all that, there is still the present moment to live out
Too noisy to call it heaven, too rich for hell
It defies names, because there is story yet to tell
And the future needs to be looked forward to, too
So gather your hopes for the rough journey
To fight the darkness within with purpose and glory
Purpose is a stupid concept, yet has its uses too
Like stories need to be told, because they have their uses too
And so time has a purpose too, to come when it chooses to
Life can have a purpose too, for what that's worth
But better to have some fun while at it I'd say
Better make those memories worth some tears at the end of the day
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