The Fires of Time

The Fires of Time

O, solemn Time, the fire that ever burns,
A flame that dances with the shadow's turns.
In thy fierce grasp, we smolder and we yearn,
Within the cruel pyre, we twist and churn.

Thou art the thief of youth's unblemished morn,
The reaper grim, from whom all life is torn.
With each tick, a spark, a moment spurned,
In thy inferno, our days are upturned.

The clock's pendulum, a scythe so dire,
Slices through dreams, as does the funeral pyre.
We, but moths in an endless nocturne,
Drawn to the blaze in which we must burn.

Yet in this fire, a phoenix may rise,
From ashes of past, new hopes can apprise.
For though we are to these flames consigned,
In the forge of Time, our fates are refined.

So let us embrace the fire's fierce glow,
And in its heat, find strength to grow.
For in the end, when all is done and learned,
It's in Time's fire, we are truly burned.

“Time is the fire in which we all burn.”

• Star Trek Generations