O Time! patient healer of all wounds
Wounds inflicted on man since ages;
Your relentless run leaves behind
Scars and blemishes of a rare kind.
Your wheels move in lightning pace
Compelling my mind to contemplate,
Should I indulge in a wild goose chase
After you, or freely let you race
Bitter memories of past incidents
You revive with marked precision
The freshness of the wounds long faded
The tormenting pain not yet subsided.
Your triumph in the game of life
Is as certain as days and nights
Yet you rush on pausing for none
And on earth you transform every one.
O Time! veritable storehouse of all events
Histories of the past, chapters of the present
Reveal to us our tomorrow's fate
Lest we fret away our todays.
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