In the unyielding march of time,

steadfastness alone bears witness,

A sentinel in the silence of ages,

unwavering, unseen.

Through epochs that dance and worlds that wither,

Consistency, like a stoic heart, pulses—unheralded, serene.

In its quiet realm,

where shadows of change are mere whispers,

there stands the monument of persistence,

untouched by sun or storm.

Here, the language of eternity is spoken in acts, not in words,

A testament to the solemn rhythm, in constancy’s form.

This dance, this unwritten odyssey of the enduring soul,

Echoes in the halls of existence, where time’s rivers flow.

In the embrace of steadfastness, truth finds its role,

The only measure of seriousness, in life's grand tableau.