Timely Measures

There is no time like the present,
And no present compares to time.
No neon display to read at night,
No coil you need to wind.

History will not repeat or come again,
It's had its second, minute and hour
Rulers have lived, died and bled,
They have gained and have lost power.

The hands will continue to sweep,
But they will never hold brush or broom.
The clock ticks on, the bells will chime.
The impending sound of doom.

Should the turning of a cog or wheel,
Signify the means to meet our end?
To give us fleeting moments?
To love and make ammends?

The wheel and cogs that turn and interlock,
Hold a precision thats pretty true.
But they can never calculate your life,
That equation is down to you.

The clock may grind to a halt too soon.
It has been like this from the start.
A new born taken away too soon,
And for a mum a broken heart.

If there is a god who is listening!
And I do not care what you are called,
Let those who have a chance excel
And doom the evil ones to fall.

If we measure things we love by time,
Then it will tick to insignificance
But if you lubricate those cogs with love
You may find some form of grace.