Time travels with us always

Another name for God is time, I think
One can’t afford to blink,
Sometimes, not even a wink,
It writes stories with an ink,
To happy and sad, it is the brink,
To past and present, it is the link,
Expand your scope or let it shrink,
It doesn’t wait, all it does is to tick,
Time is as young as a surprise,
And as old as the garden of Eden.
It has witnessed war,
A mother turned to a whore,
“There is enough time,” they swore,
Heads rolled to settle a menial score,
It knows about this folklore
On how the earth is sweet and sour,
Beings with ideas on how to soar,
It has told countless stories before,
It sees, hears, and will tell a little more.
The truth is a collection of believed lies,
Time is the one that cherry-picks
Who should go next or who should stay,
Time is the beauty of nature,
It is the sun, the moon, water and green,
It is fear, strength, peace and war,
It is a gift, a curse, a beginning and an end.
Time is travelling and we are passengers,
When we get to our destination, we die,
Time allows us time to learn how to die.
Another name for God is time, I think

Wildkhard [TA]