Epoch

A day, a dream is cast away, consumed by what is wonted
A mind, a life—both start to fade as memories turn haunted
No lessons learned, no monuments, just lowered expectations
The clock is melting, overwhelming, assuaging aspirations

Toe the line, toil and grind, pray not to be ignored
But know that all these mountains here existed long before
A conscience shows no mercy; pleasure’s not the same as greed
If what your doing doesn’t matter then you’ll bridle as you bleed

The time that’s spend is borrowed, yet we’re leasing more and more
Never stopping to ask why or what we need all of it for
Sleepwalking with a waning pulse yearning for what comes next
Impatient with the hourglass despite this cursed vex

Night approaches, everlasting, pitch black without remorse
A long life is a slow death if you choose to stay the course
Twilight shading the horizon; soon another day is gone
The question drifting in the breeze: Is it dusk or is it dawn?

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