Beyond the Sun

What happens when your clock breaks?
falls from the sky and shatters into twitching components,
what happens when the sun stops
and the rain-laden, slowly drifting clouds
disappear and only a khaki never-after is born.

Does time really stop when all experience can lead
to no other conclusion? Or was it all
a horrible lie, told to us by our senses,
the sundial merely perpetuating the illusion of
free will, of another second, another chance to change
an asphalt future through the molten present.

There is no time like the future:
it's exponentials turn grains into mountains,
hair into memories, and one grave into fields of dead.

He told me: "we all die in the long run,"
but I prefer to think I will live after time is stilled,
beyond the sun.