Timeline

Disgraced the words make me chaste
Misplaced like an ill-timed kiss
That fizzles rather than sparks
Not a soaring dove but a lark
When I try to replicate what I did
Heaven forbid I can elicit a reaction!
What was then demonstrated my ken
At making lies out of mountains
And hills out of daffodils
But can I be predicted to always break
The blocks that obstructed the third eye’s view?
The past is not the present
Is not the future
But the success of one’s life depends
On tying all three together