Tic tock the birds all cood
The clocks and pendellums swiched and swood

He loved his clocks, they kept him company
Even to a vampire, immortality gets lonely

He was an odd one of his race no doubt
The only one he knew who slept spread out

Clausterphobia is uncommon to find in his kind
But even in his coffin he felt confined

He thought it perfectly reasonable though
As he paced around his clocks to and fro

He always found the coffin dark and stuffy
If you had to sleep forever, you'ld choose
something big and fluffy

More ironic than that he found was his fixation
Time to him was an endless execration

His fate rung in his mind with every tic
A rhythmic reminder beginning to make him sick

It's actually madenning listening to every tock
Eons have past with these God forsaken clocks

He finally decided to pick up a bat
And smash every cukoo bird he had outright flat

But even as he lay on his fluffy white bed
Staring at broken bits and gears, his relief unsaid

Still he found the lair a tad bit dry
No more company around to keep him by

He realized that there was not much to be done
He should make the most of his time, and have a little fun

But first he had to spruce up the place, making sure it wouldnt frustrate
With something that, prefrebably, didnt remind him of his fate

He sat there staring at nothing, stiff and perplexed
And thought sternly to himself "Maybe snowglobes next"