Too often, fugitive hours move
     dawn’s crawling sinew to assault
     its own dew, sweating through ages
     of faces their hands clock until
     space erases, from its ancient
     continuum, a place for each

moment spent by men wasting each
     moment they’re leant on love, ancient
     inclination what leads, until
     proving themselves proves such bold moves
     too futile, those gods—those sages—
     weak monuments with stones assault,

compliments faulty stars assault
     with talk burning rocks launch, ages
     of loss what keeps hearts searching, move
     after move, players seeking each
     other to cool their wounds, until
     what lies remove shines through ancient

armour, raising again ancient
     battles truth’s buried in, until
     surfacing, as if choosing each
     path makes worth reliving assaults
     life prides itself in giving, moves
     crowding a Universe ages

surround as Fate, with chants, ages
     mortals who dance too close to move
     from lost time its orbit’s assault,
     people like planets, an ancient
     alignment guiding them when each
     climbs beyond their height’s reach, until

skies relent and drop hints, until
     men touch heaven and accept each
     attempt at legend rends ancient
     veils twain, that pain’s complaint ages
     and not its bruise sustained, assaults
     not the same when shamed with blame, move

                                        too late and you lose an ancient
                    game he rules, waiting for ages,
                    Death wins when making the first move.