The watch has ended its usefulness -
Time is on a stand still and every second
Is dragged into a long deafening silence
As each drop multiplies into long synapses,
Until it ceases to exist, and implodes due to its nonexistence.
There is  a quiet disquiet of encased thoughts
Amid the flashing fluorescence of multi-colored
Memories of the heralding of the new dawn,
As the cold contemptuous swings of air
Rushes through the derelict stations the mind,
As a spirit haunting, in search of reason and meaning,
Or in search for a beginning and an end.
Journeying through byzantine conduits
Scouring the space for a panacea for eternal returns.

And I am here in my lonesome
Waiting for ghosts to haunt me in my waking,
I'm itching to hear them drag their heavy footsteps
My ears ring in the absence of their whispers.
Now my heart has stopped, not because of death
But because death has lost its meaning.
I have lost my mind as I have lost my edge
In writing long drawn out sentences
For the consumption of the absurd - an offering
To the deep abyss of thoughts .
I have turned into a dull blade in my futile attempt to cut
Through the dense meat of time and space
Pining for a piece of tender reality
Ghosts are dead, memories have faded,
And all I have left is this profound vacancy.