How sometimes time is slow,
and the value of a penny to him then,
when in the captivating arena
fate fights.
How sometimes time is slow,
when neidude flesh
your fear of the living to renounce,
trying to find you.
How sometimes time is slow,
for those who seek in the dark, walking
following the trail to your own destiny
the soul of the mind in the pace of attracting.
As they wait, in the sweetness of sweat,
how the spirit of them preet from that,
that life, in fact, is hunting,
that's just looking at someone?