Before the clock align, and being in a hush;
In that fleeting moment of crowd’s gush,
The final sign breathed by the older year;
Where the new one ready to open its eyes.

The story is not about hours or minutes;
The wait is now for fleeting seconds,
In those lingering seconds, stretched and thin;
Nanoseconds carry an hour within.

A frail space where dreams are born;
Vision to prove ourself with resolution worn,
With crust and trough, our heartbeat grows;
Heartbeats from slow to fast, the world froze,
Between what we have and what we get;
We embrace...