Time, encapsulate me with your brush

Time, encapsulate me with your brush
So your many lines may run parallel.
 

Color, I not not of your origin
But the way it makes me feel, I see.

Truth, serve me a paradox.
The essence I believe but the verse feels unorthodox.

Truth, your essence, a paradox
Unorthodox, your essence, my truth.

Memory, bind my soul with the fragrance of old.
Serve me a platter of no fear. Help me remember it only gets better.