Swinging from a big branch.
From that tree that was there,
Rope handles, wooden seat.
Feet bare.

I'll push you,
Hold on tight,
Close your eyes,
Sun had shone bright.

Little girl,
Loved swinging,
Smiled beautifully,
Voice singing.

Laugh, and love.
That little girl,
No worries,
She's got the whole world.

But the swing, now old,
And so is she.
Swinging no more,
Living differently.

Still on the branch,
Hung the rope.
With the seat still yearning,
Waiting with hope.

Fulcrum hidden,
Gold tumbling from inside.
Knowledge unfathomable,
To those who only hear.

His cries ring out,
Every year, every hour.
His ticking,
Perpetually, counting down the world.

Into many homes he has been,
He lurks from a corner.
Pleading with his captors.
To put his time to rest.

Plainly through the class,
You can see the old man's face.
Curios children and weary men,
All look at him the same.

Pendulum swinging,
To The pulse of the world.
Can the old man stand the test of time?
Or will his ticking slow?

Capture this
Floating in a haze
They only loved you,
For mere seconds.
My intent,
Like silent music
Don't bother thinking,
I had imagined it.
Confined,
Throwing shadows
It felt like forever,
But it just took me a little time.

Smelling sharp,
Line up in the graveyard.
Throw in your bones.
The pious are the sactified.

Hold the bottle,
Intermittent puddles.
Full of people.
Breathing and suffocating.

Unconvinced thoughts,
Continually misfiring.
That poisonous smell,
That soft ticking.

Pulling me closer,
To the end of the world.
Burn the spires,
Complicated regressions.

Dead mind,
Straight to stone,
Close the door on,
The shadows on the ceiling

Drowned Serenity
Came like an ocean to another.
He called out to the other,
As the other called out to him.

As they heard the other ,
They seemed to hear much more,
Sorrow in their waves,
And greif in their hearts.

Salty tears as they tread,
Their treasures burried deep within.
Reflective surfaces hide,
What their souls truly felt.

The constant ticking,
Seems to feed off the same pace as my heart.
Nevermore as my heart stops, time will go on.
Walk the halls, ending in doom.

Reciprocations,
Consequences, ultimate.
I've done my time here,
Now it's time to pay my last due.

Still ticking away my time,
In seconds and minutes.
It keeps going,
No chance at pause.

But will time seem slower?
Will it cease when I do?
Will it keep on speeding,
Or slow down in my absence?

That ticking,
What have I done to hear it?
Will my hourglass turn back over,
Or will it stay on that table?

The time has come,
I can't hear the ticking.
The walk seems longer now,
My life has become this hallway.

Time has slowed to a stop,
The ticking is no more.
But in my omittance,
Father time shall return again.