Tick tock, tick tock,
The sands of Time march on.
Before this day's dilemma's solved,
Thus, forth comes the dawn.
Worry not. The past is gone.
Twill change it not a tittle.
The morrow's yet beyond our grasp,
It ebbs the tide but little.
Each moment past is another lost,
Its fullness should we give it.
For with each dusk falls much regret
If fail we now to live it.
The Winds of Life blow faintly by,
And yearn our sweet surrender.
To savor now each moment full
Will reap a spirit tender.
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