Hidden Clock Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Scarcely wondering what is going on, not interested in
anything anyway.

Sensing temptation of death, smelling it close to me, a
thousand bouquets mixing their scents as one.

Reaching inside, locating a hidden clock of self-eternity,
determining time left here on earth.

Destiny fulfilled, quenched, put to sleep forever, walking,
stepping aside, contemplating the other side of life and
wistfully looking forward to it.