CHANGES, TIME AND GETTING IT DONE

Chances, Time, and Getting It Done

The sun never negotiates its rise,

and the moon, though bruised by shadows, still shines.

We, too, are celestial—fragile yet fierce,

crafted for moments we fear to claim.

Chances are not given; they are seized,

fingers trembling, hearts pounding.

They do not knock with velvet gloves,

but with the force of a storm—

daring you to open the door.

Time, a silent spectator,

does not barter seconds for hesitation.

It demands action—

a leap, a stumble, a crawl—

whatever it takes to move forward.

It scorns regret,

its currency only spent in now.

Getting it done is the anthem of the restless,

the hymn of those who know that the world

owes nothing to the dreamer who sleeps too long.

It is the raw hymn of blistered hands,

of aching backs,

of minds that refuse to rest until the work is done.

Let the skies judge your ambition,

let the earth hold your sweat,

but never let doubt anchor your feet.

This life is a battlefield,

and victory belongs to the relentless.

So grasp the chance,

stand firm in time's unyielding tide,

and, no matter what,

finish the race—

because the clock will not wait,

and neither should you.