This prison of mine has grown,
It started as fear,
Building blocks of agony and pain,
Slowly bricking me in,
One layer of cement a day,
A new barricade each and every year.

This prison of mine is cold,
Winter settled in,
Summer sun never travels inside,
Sharp and spirited ice,
Fencing off the feelings I loathe,
All the emotions that destroy and sin.

A photograph of her,
And a lonely sesame seed,
A pocket watch – engraved,
The inscription reads,
“My darling, with this treasure,
You’ll feel the time tick slowly by,
By with this pocket-watch of gold,
You know I’m listening to your sighs”.

Time itself is endless,
And time itself can’t start,
It’s an ever-existing cycle,
From which this planet dare not part.

Love itself is fearless,
And love itself can’t shy,
It’s an ever-prominent vision,
That restrains a heart from its cries.

Time itself is endless,
And endless explains time,
It’s an ever-visible power,
A true pattern of perfect rhyme.

Holding you feels so right,
A perfect harmony,
The tune of wrong and right,
A balanced karma,
An equilibrium unheard of,
And all it took was time.

Sixty seconds,
A framework,
A skeleton of time,
Sixty seconds,
A blueprint,
A skeleton of time,
Sixty seconds,
A minute,
A skeleton of time.