Some say Time is relative. They say Time has no malice. They say it flies, but it never lies. Time will tell of man’s tall tales. Time will reveal the value of a man’s endeavour. Time has no favourites. It remains silent where the tears of sentiment and sweat of strife fall. And great men fall…before their Time, and some live beyond it, through the fruit of their labour, the joys born out of the struggle of existence. Passions forged in fire, stirred up in song, find their voice and take flight with Time. Ten years ago on this day, a man faded from view. Returned to the dust. Time watched. Time did not wait or waste away like his flesh. Time listened and heard his cries, watched his struggle to hold on. To breathe. Time captured his breath for posterity. Lynden David Hall still breathes.