The Scholars made a circle out of time,
divided it in pieces like a pie.
Assigned to it a rhythm (not a rhyme)
and threw it, like a net, around the sky.
But Earth does not a perfect circle make.
Imaginary lines do not lie true
so pieces of our lives we must forsake
to hold it all together as we do.
For time will push against a Sailor's bow
when heading from tomorrow on his way...
and when he sails the other way, somehow,
it steals from him a piece of his today.
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