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A Complication of Time
To think time holds us back,
Separates his fate from ours,
Strips us of our right attack,
Whistles with his freedom hours,
That we are his toys to juggle,
Is an idea too conflicted.
Time shares our endless struggle,
His control remains restricted;
Only one way at continuing length.
Therefore until my enduring end,
At his boundlessly linear strength
I will accept, but will not bend.
