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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1164132
The passage of time as the world might say goodbye
The clock doesn't tick, and it doesn't tock.
Dreams become nightmares on this final day.
Chemicals and molecules turn to spray.
Souls uncertain future smote by the shock.
No passing of time left, no more dismay.

When the sun becomes a frosty sno-cone.
And all mountains sink as giant souffles.
The desert is now mudpuddles to play.
Black snow sprinkles down opening tombstones.
Oceans say goodbye with one final wave.
© Copyright 2006 Thaddeus Buxton Winthrop (franksimon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1164132-Passing-Of-Time