The Musings of an Old Soul

You can't run from time,
You can numb yourself to its passage,
You can dream yourself into eternity.
But you can't escape time.

Time is a wicked trick,
You can't see, hear, or smell it,
You can't touch it or taste it,
But time marches on.

You can't erase time,
You are left with its markings,
irreversible, mental and physical,
You can't reverse time.

Time gives us hope,
That our suffering,
long and confusing,
will reveal our deepest desires.

You can dream time away,
Or you can make a stand,
screaming and fighting against it,
Until your protests echo into nothing.

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