Faith we abate, a perfect design of which we deprecate
We can't decipher this suppressive surge of desire
As I watch the hands of time cradle circumstance and consequence
I reiterate that the hourglass is near its end and depleting swiftly
Trace the edge along this line we drew within this narrow space

Memories I can't recreate
Wreckage beyond what we could calculate
An affection that fluctuates
Familiar speech in a new tongue that I cannot translate

"Monolith" by Erra