At the forgotten hands of the time

at the forgotten hands of the time untangled knots on the forgotten hands of time and what is life apart from a rythm? rhtym sonnets black pearl words on white pages no movement, no sentence running, dancing, singing mind is frozen life is not an aforethought scenario nothing is lost, nothing is gained... at that faraway shore time is no more or real and morrow is more... here I stand waiting and waiting for you.