Love grows in mysterious ways like a seed through our hearts from our souls blossoming to the world.
Some people grow Partially so. Instead others go, Rarefied winds blow. In all there is still a few, Those with a different view, Under pressure remain still. And yet they sow, Like the rivers flow, In the rain, high or low, The seeds of a soul, Young starting anew!
If I knew then what I know now I guess it'd make no difference; Fate's sure in the way somehow. What's important is the essence. Although we still have free will We also have a whole lot to deal.
Your heart cannot feel Nothing it cannot heal. If you keep yourself still, Steal no time it's no real!
Because Time is not something to be measured with the eyes, but by the Heart, it's never too late to go and change.
Time is an illusion that passes way too fast!