Time is set into stone,
None may try to change it,
Yet many break it.
Time set into Naquadah is forever,
As it is in our minds.
Yet we wonder and ponder,
As to why.
Why must we be?
Time to pass, time to create?
A failed experimental process?
Mustn't we make ourselves something worthwhile?
A piece of time to remember?
Some of us are long forgotten,
Some will disappear when no-one else says their name,
Some are remembered for changing the minds of others,
Bringing a new light.
Some kill, some bring life and save it.
Who are we to be? Mere writers of the unknown?
Must we be pressured by our own existences and behaviors,
To express our own with unfaithful inquiries?
Fate is upon us, an immense crisis at hand.
