Time One of the most complex expressions Memory made manifest It's something that straddles past and future Without ever quite being present Or rather, it at first seems indifferent to the present There's a tension of a most unfathomable nature The word desires to be understood, to have meaning But you somehow feel that it's not you yourself That the word is addressing It washes over you, holding a dialogue with something arcane That's maybe not mortal, and you feel intrigued Captured, even You're aware of a deeper existence Maybe a temporary reassurance that Indeed, there is no beginning, no end And all at once, the outward appearance of meaning Is transcended, and you find yourself struggling to comprehend A deep and formidable mystery All is transient Does it matter? Do I bother?