Though all were born to die, some mock their fate
and by the gift of frost are sealed away
Entombed in chill serenity, to wait
their breath of life, the youth of golden days
Their only trust, in science true and cold
In logic’s fair and austere law of stone
And, riding on a wave of newborn gold
someday surpass their native blood and bone
Their heaven is to span an ageless day
yet fear the yawning dark beyond the tomb
Remade like ancient fabric when it frays
And ever dancing steps away from doom
Eternal life their vision above all
Forever, like a timeless siren’s call
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