When time flies, does it soar swiftly through the air like an eagle,
Or does it float gently into space like a balloon?
Or does it glide smoothly like a flying squirrel descending upon the ground?
Regardless, since everything dies at last and too soon, shouldn't time’s curse die as well?
I've seen its morbid disease occur over and over again. It plagues generations after generations. It's the curse of replacement. The curse of regression.
If time’s curse is the story of reversion, then let us pray that time flies like Icarus. May time finally catch up to time itself.