In the fleeting moments of our days,
Time is the only currency you spend without knowing your balance,
We journey forth, uncertain of our ways,
Each step a testament to life's fleeting dance.

Like sand slipping through an unseen hourglass,
Moments dissolve into the annals of the past,
Leaving memories and echoes that amass,
While time moves on, relentless and steadfast.

We strive to grasp each passing precious hour,
Yet time eludes our grasp, slipping through our fingers,
Leaving us yearning for its fleeting power,
As life's melody plays and lingers.

So cherish every moment, every chance,
For time is the only currency you spend without knowing your balance.

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Mayan, in the year 955 AF.