Through the trees I swing, a curious monkey am I,
Pondering on the notion of control as time goes by.
Sometimes we strive to possess, to hold on tight,
But perhaps it's an illusion, a fleeting delight.

Madness whispers in the wind, urging us to wait,
For possession is but a momentary state.
We cannot truly own, nor control what we desire,
For time holds the power, a flame that won't tire.

We may think we possess, but it's just an illusion,
A dance with time, a temporary fusion.
In truth, all we have is our will, our inner drive,
And time, with its moments, allows us to thrive.

So let go of the madness, the need to control,
Embrace the uncertainty, let your spirit unfold.
For in the waiting, in the surrendering of control,
We find freedom, a peace that nurtures the soul.

As a monkey, I swing with the rhythm of time,
Embracing the present, this moment so sublime.
Wait not for possession, but for the joy of being,
And madness will fade, leaving clarity worth seeing.