Tick hour, I'm not afraid of you.
The courtyard's grey and full of silence,
Maybe someone will cross in your time,
But I already made my way to my towerlet,
Perched inside the treasure holder, letter shelves,
Deep within the library.
Others have come, inmobile in you
Typing, eyes skitting, nestled feathers on sofas,
Just like me, but ignoring you.
Tick then! Who am I to care,
The morning's mine to flirt with
And you don't even know about the afternoon.
There are no clocks here except the ones
We choose to see, and no one makes that choice
Here, except accidental numbers on a computer screen.
So tick, fearless warrior,
I'm a vestige of speed in distance
- I'm scurrying away with thoughts
And you have no power here.