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Description
Nothing left but wait and see
as time, it tries to bury me,
under the weight of age and ash
just as it has in aeons past.
This is a fight no man can win,
against the ghosts of what has been,
and though we ask, it won't remit,
so time again we take the hit.

"Timeless" is a nonsense phrase,
from very first to end of days,
all things have felt the sting of time,
even love, spirit and rhyme.
I say this all not to be cruel,
but to provide a vital fuel,
which all life needs to carry on,
for once time strikes, your chance is gone.

Do not live within the past,
or in the unknown future, vast,
live in the present, here and now;
only this will time allow.
And when you've used up what it gave,
time will see you to the grave,
and give to you one final gift,
to guide you through a worldly rift.

So live, I beg you, for today;
lest wings of time whisk you away,
and take you to this other place,
to stare into an ancient face.
This wizened face, it will not speak,
but silently this face will seek
to learn how you have played your hand,
and there will be no reprimand.

No berating for a life of waste,
or praise for one whose life was chaste,
it just accepts you as you are,
and will not pry or judge or mar.
You will become one with this being,
never speaking, always seeing,
only knowing uncountable lives,
the thing on which time itself survives.

Description
Nothing left but wait and see
as time, it tries to bury me,
under the weight of age and ash
just as it has in aeons past.
This is a fight no man can win,
against the ghosts of what has been,
and though we ask, it won't remit,
so time again we take the hit.

"Timeless" is a nonsense phrase,
from very first to end of days,
all things have felt the sting of time,
even love, spirit and rhyme.
I say this all not to be cruel,
but to provide a vital fuel,
which all life needs to carry on,
for once time strikes, your chance is gone.

Do not live within the past,
or in the unknown future, vast,
live in the present, here and now;
only this will time allow.
And when you've used up what it gave,
time will see you to the grave,
and give to you one final gift,
to guide you through a worldly rift.

So live, I beg you, for today;
lest wings of time whisk you away,
and take you to this other place,
to stare into an ancient face.
This wizened face, it will not speak,
but silently this face will seek
to learn how you have played your hand,
and there will be no reprimand.

No berating for a life of waste,
or praise for one whose life was chaste,
it just accepts you as you are,
and will not pry or judge or mar.
You will become one with this being,
never speaking, always seeing,
only knowing uncountable lives,
the thing on which time itself survives.