The clock folds in on herself
Her tolling bell a bleeding umbrage
That floods the spinning wheels
With a forsaken purgatory
Promised to only those who
Tampered with the snake’s grace
And her ticking heart dampens
As it tries to evanesce the looming past
But its starling face sports the
Ghosts of numbers once counted
And her folding hands do nothing
To erase the scars that condemn
The way her pendulum swings…
Even as she sighs,
The wind washes the remnants away…
Her lonely shell left with only faith to
Shade the decrepit tree from the
Evil a lone apple once wreaked
And the prophecy of her voice,
The promises of her steady sway
Are left to waste away
In what once was the Garden of Eden
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wow Kim, you havent written in awhile, SO GLAD TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING NEW FROM YOU TO READ! WHOOT! This rocks, especially the lines "And her ticking heart dampens As it tries to evanesce the looming past" I love those lines, not sure why, i just do! Great Job!
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