Time Machine

“How many gears make the time machine?”
One may not like to know but those gears stamp our lives.
Times have changed and will always change whatever;
We all wait, and when the moment comes repent.

Once upon a time there was a mouse
Its dream was to enter the unknown clock house;
Years went by but it never could
To enter the house was the door of wood;
The door opened for a short while
When the fat man cleanses the main dial;
After many years the mouse grew old
One day the door opened but never got fold;
For the first time the mouse ran inside
And climbed the pinions for its last ride;
Suddenly the door got closed
Only to its fate the mouse was exposed.

No rain can stop the weapon of time
But fat man destiny makes it seem overhaul;
No fire can destroy the mighty hands of time
When the dreams are met they just change directions.