The past gnawing at the future. The future consuming the present. The present forever passing. Time is that which will be is was. The good earth absorbs its own.
Nothing makes it infinite.
Life is skittish in Numbered dispensations, each An attempt to divide time Indivisible. My footsteps echo As I steal away. But time without time with time To do absolutely nothing but time. Or Back to Home Page Copyright 2000 - 2001 by Steven C. Scheer. All rights reserved.