The Ocean Of Time Poem by Mystic Qalandar

The city lights even go blind — it's dusk.
The dark night stays alive — until it's dawn.
Everything takes its turn, one by one.
It feels like this has gone on for years:
Night after day, day after night.

The age-old road feels strangely alive,
Busy with travelers ever treading,
Truly coming and going.
I asked them, "Why do you walk this circular path? "
They whispered,
"It's not the sun or stars that change their course.
Time is not a straight line, nor a curve, nor a loop.
We are the fish, swimming in the ocean of time."

Everything is calm—
So tranquil, each traveler.
Nothing disturbs their movement,
And I found joy in that continuous flow,
Watching from somewhere beyond the sky.

But the travel tires my eyes.
I couldn't keep them open, nor shut them.
I don't know why.
Yet life moves on.
The journey never ends.