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Kairos' opponent He stands on the edge of empty time, An old man with eyes blind to hope. With hair tangled, an eternal shadow, Whose belated moments stitch. His hands clenched in grief, No longer grasp the chances long gone. Each hour, like the wings of a dead bird, Extinguished, though he once still believed in it. Grey robes, of woven memories, Wrapping him in the weight of a too-late choice. He came too late to the gate of fate, And the future has already departed in the glow of the day of leek.
An old man stands at the edge of time, burdened by lost chances and memories. His grief is palpable, as he reflects on a future that has slipped away, wrapped in the weight of regret.
