Running Time

Running Time by Ayoalabi on ZenPens

In day, we stress like a ghost rejected in the after life, working from limbs to veins

Like a stranger, our home bids us farewell each time the cockerel sings of running time

For if we are to die, let us not crawl, but to walk a work

And eat from the sweet sweat of our sand

Hustling and bustling the route of wealth from dawn to dusk

Working through the sound of time, traded in the sound of slave

Till time betrayed us and turned sunlight to twilight

Making us to fly to our nest and wait for the dawn of light to break

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