The Thyme Machine
The waving of a wand...
Or the simple expression having a hand,
The wizard dissapears like a lizard king
Leaving the land...
Decieving the man into believing his tricks,
Stealing our fire and leaving 2 sticks,
The fires amid our pyra without,
And because our heat rises its how we get out,
Defeating this realm, takes one little spark,
Ignite and then place it inside of your heart,
As fire rises we are taken away,
To a place where the darkness is making the day,
More than a body... More than just a mind...
Go within, you might be surprised what you find...
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