In the fullness of time (2)

In the fullness of time,
All things are reconsidered,
Though the sweet soul's now embittered,
Take your time, take your time.
Any story not yet written
Gets its proper place in print;
Any lamb once spared the knife
Will receive its sacrifice;
Each commander, every cad
Not yet lauded earns his praise;
And the sullen hero's halo
Like a pharos cuts the haze.
As the mainspring loses vigor,
A lassitude envelopes us,
An apathy dismantles us,
And entropy holds sway;
There's nothing we can do,
No antidote unpoisons us,
No remedy restores us to our
Ruddy glory days.
The implication's strong:
There are no second chances,
No back doors to romances
As in sappy teleplays;
Time is soldered to advancement,
In progressing, it grows weaker
Till the clockhand's barely creaking
And each second is an age.
But you say, you sense a spurring?
That's a common misperception,
A myopic flaw in eyesight
Brought about by too much hindsight;
When the past outglows the present,
How the heart is set to racing!
With remembrance of that pacing--
It's a phantom of a cue.
Or perhaps you're feeling giddy,
Twirled about by constant motion
From the turmoil in your ocean,
Thrilling dips you took in stride
Back when you were just a spratling;
Ah, but now your body's ailing,
And your brain is old and failing;
You no longer dig this ride.
So you see, we are the slow ones;
With each tortoise-step we ponder,
What's that peril over yonder?
And we duck our heads inside,
For should our hearts beat wildly,
Or we run ahead too blindly,
Oversoon we reach our ending--
Thus, we risk our very lives.