Title: "The Clock Of Redemption" Comments

(A lone figure stands under a dim spotlight, the sound of a ticking clock echoing in the silence. Their voice starts soft, almost trembling, and gradually rises into impassioned resolve.)
Do you know… do you know what it feels like to watch life slip through your fingers like grains of sand? To stand at the edge of your own hesitation, paralyzed by doubt, fear, pride… and then… to realize… the moments you could have seized… the words you should have spoken… the bridges you should have crossed… have all grown cold with neglect?
I was late—late to apologize, late to act, late to live… as though the world had a timetable and I had missed my train. I watched as opportunities passed by like strangers on the street, and I told myself, "Tomorrow… tomorrow I will be brave. Tomorrow I will try."
And yet, here I am. Here I am, trembling, ashamed, weary… but here. And in this trembling… I hear it, faint yet unwavering: Better late than never.
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