The clock ticks on, a consistent beat,
Every second transient, self-contradicting.
We pursue the hours, we pursue the days,
Trapped in time's ceaseless labyrinth.
However in the respite, we track down our effortlessness,
A temporary grin, a delicate hug.
For however the hours may quickly fly,
Love waits on, it won't ever pass on.
In each tick, in each toll,
We live, we love, we dance through time.
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