empty hours will not fill
with dreams that cannot hold
what is not ours to possess
nor will solace be found
to ease longing until all is
at rest content and secure
with what is his to own
nor will change find respite
in what was left lying undone
in wake of haste to press on
toward the unknown beckoning
from those who hold what is
theirs alone and know what
rises upon the dawn of
each emerging moment come of age
to one who faces the
glare of a light
that singes our eye
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