Poetry Corner: Sonnet XV by Shakespeare

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When I consider every thing that grows

Holds in perfection but a little moment,

That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows

Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

When I perceive that men as plants increase,

Cheered and cheque'd even by the self-same sky,

Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,

And wear their brave state out of memory;

Then the conceit of this inconstant stay

Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,

Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay,

To change your day of youth to sullied night;

And all in war with Time for love of you,

As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

- Shakespeare

This is the point of writing about love - to beat the war with Time. The nature of the world is for everything to be in constant flux, but art, whether it be a novel, a painting, a dance, or a song, allows those moments to be preserved and revisited.