The Measure Of Time

The muse of man is such, He thinks he knows so much, But in time one will find his mind it needs a crouch. The sands of time is thus, That eons and millennium would rust, Plans within plans  be like sinking sands and then in the end would bust, I reach out to you to no avail  I try to dock to your ship but you set sail  To bridge the gap between life and death  Is the power of will in every breath  To give up now on a distant star Would seem so foolish just because It's far  I will wait for patience be mine Like a moth to a flame I long to see that star shine