Great Fear

Afraid to look anyone in the eye. The skin might fall off my
bones.
Paint the whites of my eyes when angels cut their ties with heaven and
the sky turns a frozen black.
A change that is inevitable in mortality.
Time could justify its death if it had of stood still for you.
If it had wanted to time could have committed a suicide more noble and
more respectful to me than humanly imaginable.
The clouds are plenty and run on infinately, beyond my horizons.
The sky is a frozen black today and forever.