The roses on the windowsill lowered down their heads
Reaching for the fading sun, oblivious that the world was nothing left
Silence seemed stitched into dawn, as if hidden in its seams
Even the once loud birdsong hushed into the slightest sigh of breath
The clock hands trembled, reluctant to admit their final turn
But alas, the grandfather clock that stood at the start of time
Watched as it became the bomb it knew the world deserved
The streets lay empty, only echoing with the memory of footsteps
Windows stared hollow-eyed, the flickering light that once danced within became a ghost
The reaper wandered mindlessly, as humankind paid off its debt
The hours bled away, each one a nail upon the coffin’s lid
Four tolls remained, their echoes trembling through the marrow of the earth
And when the last struck hollow, only a single tear of the god sounded
And at last, darkness crept again until the god once again called for birth
Dec 11, 2025
Dec 11, 2025 at 2:59 PM UTC
The roses on the windowsill lowered down their heads
Reaching for the fading sun, oblivious that the world was nothing left
Silence seemed stitched into dawn, as if hidden in its seams
Even the once loud birdsong hushed into the slightest sigh of breath
The clock hands trembled, reluctant to admit their final turn
But alas, the grandfather clock that stood at the start of time
Watched as it became the bomb it knew the world deserved
The streets lay empty, only echoing with the memory of footsteps
Windows stared hollow-eyed, the flickering light that once danced within became a ghost
The reaper wandered mindlessly, as humankind paid off its debt
The hours bled away, each one a nail upon the coffin’s lid
Four tolls remained, their echoes trembling through the marrow of the earth
And when the last struck hollow, only a single tear of the god sounded
And at last, darkness crept again until the god once again called for birth
