Horizons کے بول

Haunted by the fall of alexandria And the loss of the thoughts its works would inspire We must pull these threads from the fire Bombarded by Rhythm from cosmic horizons Where sacrificial altars Call to the dead Behold aeons of systematic decay The reformation of all archaic We are the privileged few Who stand for an instant aware Of our moment in time Neither ozymandias nor tithonus Could accept their impermanence Intellectually and corporally We are all doomed eventually In this space At this time How should we live? What sort of people should we be? With the benefit of experience History, literature, philosophy And no transcendent being's authority With understanding and self-mastery We can engage our lives For the benefit of humanity Behold aeons of systematic change The reformation of all archaic Bombarded by Rhythm from cosmic horizons Where abandoned altars Are transformed anew