This Too Will Past Comments

I count the days of every of fleeting moments, lustful desires, angry gesture, hateful thoughts...They are all empirical, spontaneous, somewhat insignificant as they go by.   
      These uninhibited manner arouse curious eye, stir fear, you wonder why. The mystery, the element, the grey area in between rapidly changing tasks. 
      The world a stage, the drama it plays, the actors screen, cry, rage, flare and engage, it's critics always had sometime to say. 
     Teach us to number our days, that our soul may save. If I had a dollar for every hour, a millionaire I would say. We all chase the wind in one way or another knowingly we cannot catch it. Loving life, hate it another; it is His grace that preserves, I'm sure there is no other. 
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