Behind The Streets of Time

Behind the streets of time,
Hours never stop flowing;
The growing trees in climb,
Their age are now showing.
Hiding faces there falling on,
Creating erasion of a vision;
Before too long day's gone,
Into the twilight's precision.

Erasing the light creations,
In clouds that are drifting by;
Black electrifies abductions,
In the evening dimish sky.
Till morn hangs over roofs,
Downpour of glowing black;
Star spots and many spoofs,
Returning the sunshine back.

Behind the slowly minutes,
Never the same hour face;
Dawn together aggregates,
In the coloring aerospace
What has a man then seen?
In a nocturnal dreaming past;
Where have the thoughts been,
While the body lay bedfast.