do not be late

these words you read are always late
at the fault of my slow hands
but at the hour of no sun or moon
shines and glows the aching heart

how long will i walk on sand
and fall when the tides of lies wash in
how long until my feet feel the rock
the sole of saved souls were meant to stand

no one will know the day or the hour
but will it really be on time
if the symphony played now
it would still drag my beat

you promised the right hour, the right spark
and i fear no belief in that
so i cling close to this covenant
that when i am late, you are untouched by time