2 - Sonnet on Time
Is time a spiral stairway that we climb
Whose unendingness we seek to borrow
To the last wrought syllable of our rhyme
Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow -
The fusion of the future with the past
In dizzying dimensions ever new
Which hurl us headlong in a void so vast
That what we view as false appears as true?
We must peer through bars forever blocking
Upon the threshold of our promised land -
At the gates of eternity knocking -
Outside we stand - albeit hand in hand.
Through the rush of time we're ceaselessly swirled.
How heartless is the transience of this world!
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