Fighting Tides

Time slows not, in sympathy nor rejoice. It does not stop to mourn this passing. Frost will come to hold you static, release you once more when the coolth has left. For days on end this magic fades past us. We grasp and claw at those tattered fragments. Schedules and routine precision do not combat temporal movements. My error, my absolute innocence abundantly clear. To have had such powerful thoughts. To have been in possession of so much youth. I spent it all without expectation of change.