#CrossEra
In a room where time dissolves,
Two figures meet, with ancient resolve.
One is cloaked in wisdom's hue,
The other bears a passion new.

Socrates speaks, his voice a stream,
"Tell me, friend, what do you dream?
Is it truth you seek, or fame's embrace,
Or do you walk at reason's pace?"

Lincoln stands with solemn grace,
A face etched deep with war's long trace.
"My dream," he says, "is peace's light, ...