Clutch

Clutch

Text:

As I stepped on

Each crumbling hour seemed

To hold more life than,

The one before, but it’s what Time

Would have us learn is nothing

More than illusion and desire

Of our own devising as we release

Recklessly, somersaulting

Into the Universe’s constant

Motion, attempting to dance

With rapture, better pursued

When we connect

Our purpose to our allotment

Within the persistently-fleeting

Everyday

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