I am the fleeting breath,
between your birth and death,
residing just behind your numbered days.
The echoes of your past,
I grant what cannot last.
And there's no telling me to change my ways.
No span within my frame,
shall measure just the same,
though myths about my essence have deceived.
I won't stand still or fly,
but only pass you by,
I move as swiftly as I am perceived.
I'm here to share it all,
each rise and every fall,
But I can't hint to who I'll drown or save.
My currents, fast and slow,
a force within my flow,
the peril known, yet you must ride the wave.
And though I cannot stay,
it grieves me to this day,
that on my hands, too many choose to dwell.
Beyond my firm commands,
the choice rests in your hands,
to seize our moments shared and spend me well.
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