In the realm where clocks breathe life,
Where moments march, in rhythm they thrive,
There dwells an idea, ageless and grand,
An eternal river, flowing wild and unplanned.

Time, the ever-present judge of our days,
In its linear path, it forever arrays,
A tapestry of memories, woven so fine,
Yet fading with each step, like an ancient wine.

From the first cry of a newborn child,
To the last breath, with thoughts running wild,
Time explores the depths of life's mystery,
Unfolding the chapters of our human history.

Through childhood's innocence, we sprint and play,
Unaware of the ceaseless passage, come what may,
Time's hands push us, toward adulthood's shore,
Where dreams take root, shaping our core.

In youth's exuberance, we chase our desires,
Believing invincibility fuels...