Time moves on, a ceaseless flow,
Everlasting, yet we never know,
As sands slip through the hourglass,
Our perceptions shift and pass.

Infinite moments, fleeting and fleet,
Drifting away, with each heartbeat,
The past, present, and future entwine,
In this ever-changing paradigm.

What was once is gone, forever lost,
The present, a fleeting moment's cost,
The future, a dream that's yet to come,
In this endless dance, we are undone.

Time moves on, a tireless force,
As we strive to find our destined course,
Our perceptions shape our every view,
In this life that's constantly new.

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 16th of Severin, in the year 5 AC.