This stillness,
This quiet,
This loud, obnoxious clock.
I can hear my breathing,
The beating of my heart,
The ticking of that clock.
That solemn clock,
Adorned with it's gems,
Knows what I fear.
It taunts with every strike.
Like a gunshot,
Loud and alarming.
That keeper of time,
A holy image on the wall,
Does not spare me.
Rushing me along,
It will bring that time closer,
And slow down those days.
To put space between us,
Is it's only goal.
That grimacing clock.
I could turn back it's hands,
But only delay,
What is inevitable.
For now, I surrender,
To that damnable clock's,
Unholy desire.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
It's great, like the hopeless feeling and the mood in the poem. It's a good read.
Though I think you might overrepeat the word "clock", even though I see the point of doing so
Adding your comment:
