Time smiles at its might
For it can play,
Its own game
With Its own rules.
With blind eyes
And tied hands,
Puppets we are,
Lurking in its shadow.
We laugh and cry,
Praise and blame,
Love and hate,
Acting in its play.
Still with faith,
We pass the time,
Striving to tantalize the master with our
Sheepishly gripping grin of grimace.
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