Time pours fluidly from the clock,
it flies out the window,
hovers over my face,
mocking, nourishing the
frantic fleeting moments,
anxiety, pain, half witted smiles,
but somehow I find it grants
to me a few minutes of
soulful sea dark poetry,
sometimes it plays sound
of crashing waves, along
desolate oceans and bleak
airy days, where I sit
by myself and laugh freely
under shade of those who stay
and don't ever want to leave,
everything is unraveling,
seconds and hours urging to
take control and fight,
but as for me I sit in front
of the bleak airy soulful sea
with my dark dark poetry,
and enjoy the grayness of
the sun's muffled light.