Questions about life and time.

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If one of us should claim
That truth might be contained
In lengths of time and space,
I’ll ask the question that remains:
Is truth but this domain?

Or ask, is denial the aim,
Lies lie beyond this frame,
Like a fetus might proclaim,
The womb is their sole fate?

And if one of us creates
The song to lead this age
To some ideal place,
I’ll ask for proof of claim,
By your chosen ways.

Or ask, does superstition reign,
Soothsayers rise in fame,
As if answers rise from flames
To the readers of its names?

We stand together in one state
‘tween tomorrow and yesterday,
Yet can never truly say
What secrets there might lay
In either past or future days.

Poised on strands of today,
Might not it show my way,
A secret so clearly plain,
Old as my rise from clay:
Life is in my hands to name?

While measures that I make
Are really for my sake,
And meanings, I might take
To build a better place
By my will to create.

The one choice I can say
Is to make a power play
For riches and for fame,
Or, content to work away,
Meet the needs of the day.

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