Run wild

Oh father time spouts his enumerated wishes of elongation and contortion to his subjects with only few can call to him and bend him to the their will where passion uses sleight of hand to mesmerize the task of the hand.  When your spirit howls at the moon for more and looks to the window to see a sun instead of moon they howl relentless with no intent of termination and onward on to the breach i will go with intent for more.  If your soul seeks warmth from the cold of disinterest then you may see time under different terms in which he drags you through dirt and mud with your face red and full of tears.  In this tearful existence is where most of the populated who idle by waiting for a foot to press where you must pick your loves among those who lost theirs unable to fill their tank and move down the line.  Stuck and fucked is where father time asks you where you want to be and you shall reply with no worry of such instead just know your red hot passions that line your veins and let them run wild.