The dream of the future, you see, dissolves,
and, with time, so does the apprehension.
The world under sun is no exception,
and all you see around you evolves.

New traits, and things familiar, can be sensed,
but futile is hope without fruition.
The grief you knew begets no vision.
The happiness you felt becomes regret.

Winter fades, and takes its cold and storm.
Spring revives the world with love and warmth.
But still the law: all things decay and age.

Vanity itself wont dry your tears.
And so you fear as your time draws near.
The world will turn, but never change.