Sometimes
When time seems
To be constantly
Hurtling forward
Into the future
It seems to stop
As though to catch
It's breath
And as it glances
Over it's right shoulder
It can see
All the time
Left in it's wake
Floating
Suspended
In it's own essence
But then time
Realises
That it must not
Stand still
Or go backwards
As it's quest
Is to forever
Forge ahead
Into unknown destinies
Time then
Moves on
For it has not
The time
To stop
One day
I will wake up dead
And for me
At least
Time will cease to be

by Jemia