Seven days and nights,

Men toil until they pass.

And cats will eat the grasses,

That grows beyond the night.

The love inside a mother,

In womb until arrival.

So keep us in the light,

The purpose of our time.

The greatest race to run,

And thoughts of things to come.

Can one find a purpose,

A reason for each season.

One day we shall be walking,

An old man on the street.

So love until you find,

The purpose of our time.


Hennessy