What prompted you Mr. Time-Man?

What made you think up hours?

Would crops not grow without a plan?

Would rulers not build towers?

What demon whispered in your ears?

Who caused the years or minutes?

The sundial, the water wheel,

This calendar of fears?

Without the seasons so pronounced,

Would gypsies choose careers?

Would pharaohs forget pyramids,

Or, waves not batter piers?

Would lilacs bloom around the clock?

Would nights relieve my fears?

Would sun and moon resist the war,

And, finally become peers?

And what of me, exulted one,

Would I have ever been?

My life in other days or years,

What sights might I have seen?

And in the end when planets clash,

And black holes disappear,

Will you begin your count again,

Or, maybe shed a tear?

For what once was born, or might have been,

Had you but slowed the pace;

For wars that may have never been,

If Time had lost the race.

For beauty that transpired to death,

For dreams that never bloomed;

For children screaming in the night,

For fates of nations doomed.

And if the count begins anew,

I pray for you alone;

For so much death, such loneliness,

Would break a heart of stone.

I pray for you, Mr. Time-Man,

I wish that you are blind.

I hope that feelings never cross,

The twisted path of Time.

Marjan Farzaad 5/5/1995