Time and Again

Her fleeting steps, the silent teasing stride
of Time, evading nimbly our grasp
and we, in hot pursuit are stumbling down
a crooked path. We run. We pant. We gasp
and barely touch her ever flowing gown.
Yet when she stops and we catch up at last
she turns to let us face eternal night.
In darkness thus Fate's final dice are cast.
We end this chase. We falter and give in.
Pass on the torch! A new race shall begin.

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