Does Time End?

I once had a dream, a deep fantasy dream,
A swirl of colors like feathers through cream,
It carried on tough, shattered and together,
I dreamed about time, like it was a ball on a tether.
Back and forth, each twitch of the hand,
A mirror beside dolls and dreamland.

The dream reversed, flesh in the future,
Side to side, fabric flowing soft in a brazen suture.
A bungee between the push and pull, as I dreamed about time,
Recognizing its influence weaved in cruel, dead

Time.
When things went white, a world without color,
A paper, a scholar, the books of–

Time that had no end,
Forever, and ever, and ever,
And ever, until it started again.

There’s always a beginning,
There’s always an end,
Because time brings dreams,
And I’m solemn again.

Time.
Time.
Time.
Time.
Time.

Like a mosquito bite in my brain.
Time goes on, forever and again.

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