The Death Of TIME

Once upon a time there was a TIME
That flew by like a bullet train speeding off into the horizon.
It was a TIME that one does not forget, long after TIME has passed.
TIME didn't know how precious it was.
It was oblivious to its own power. It was insecure and fleeting in its existence. 
Like so many of us, TIME walked on this earth feeling invisible. 
And to many - TIME WAS.
Some were keenly aware of its presence. They were the poets, the artists, the monks. 
Others, the over-achievers, were keenly aware of TIME'S impending disappearance. 
They were the anxious, the competitive, the fearful. 
Some were unaware of TIME'S presence, nor its impending disappearance.
They were the lucky ones. The children, the spared, the crazy ones. 
But TIME was the most oblivious at all. Unaware of its own existence. Too wrapped up in its own demise to notice its aliveness. 
When lastly TIME drifted away, into a horizon far in the past and far into the future, 
What remained was the remains of presence. The DEATH of TIME was all that there was. Alas, there was nothing without TIME lurking nearby. There was a long never-ending stretch of nothingness. 
Greet TIME before it leaves you, crazy one.