The pendulum swings
Quarter past three
Time bites and stings
What time will it be?
Contorted mechanics pop
Broken hands pound
The beaten face drop'd
Eaten by the devil's hound
Cuckoo bird yelps
A searing pain
Scorching helps
The birds consciousness regain
Time stands still
Psychics can't forsee
The lighthouse on a hill
Nowhere near a sea
Blood drips from the wound gears
Silently covering the floor
With my absorbed fears
Watch it close my door
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 3:41 PM UTC
The pendulum swings
Quarter past three
Time bites and stings
What time will it be?
Contorted mechanics pop
Broken hands pound
The beaten face drop'd
Eaten by the devil's hound
Cuckoo bird yelps
A searing pain
Scorching helps
The birds consciousness regain
Time stands still
Psychics can't forsee
The lighthouse on a hill
Nowhere near a sea
Blood drips from the wound gears
Silently covering the floor
With my absorbed fears
Watch it close my door
I have no clue what this poem is supposed to mean. It was honestly a random presentation of my anger from today and a little bit of hurt.
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