The Death Of Time Poem by Shasha Mesha

The clasp was surreal,
It felt completely cosmic
The walk continued a great distance,
I was being led this time
As I was coaxed into being a follower
The endearing breeze swept across my lips,
Seamlessly witnessing a parade of gushing moons,
Scintillating sound of the busy streets as I progressed,
I was kept occupied,
Allowing me to incite all my senses
Refusing to fathom, I was completely susceptible to the spur of the moment
Distinctively conquering the time,
I felt an emerging need to halt the breath
Trying to defy my role as a follower
But the radiance beamed into my eyes,
And at that very moment,
The death of time was bequeathed.