Tick-tock, tick-tock
The clock is ticking
Time is running out.

I stand here with a black robe and a scythe
Watching her battling her own demons
Crying but not shedding a tear
As I await to feed on another soul
She awaits to seek comfort in my arms.

There she stands
With arms wide open to embrace me
With a stool underneath her feet
And a rope around her neck
Agh...the cliched way of quitting
Disappointing me as there was no surprise.

The nooze...
Not so choking as her parent's expectations
Or those comments she got for those extra pounds
Not so suffocating as his kiss had left her
Or that bottle of beer and pack of cigarettes
That felt too strangling to let go of

I stand here watching her
Covered in wounds she did to herself
Seemed like her body was her canvas
Every scar, wound, bruise and cut
Had a story of it's own to narrate.

I see her struggling against her own mind
Crumbling down with each thought
I see it all in her dark deep eyes
Deep yet everything seemed eerily hollow
Those eyes showed no sign of regret
Not a hint of reluctance.

No! she wasn't weak, just tired...

And so I ask
How far do you think she's willing to go
I had my answer

As she kicked the stool and also her life
Pushing away the last bit of hope
The rope around her neck grew tighter
Her lips curled slightly
Into a hauntingly charming smile
Life flashed in front of her eyes
As she thought she could escape it all..

Tick- tock tic-hush!!....

times running out,
hear the old ticking clock.

tick tock. time a' running out.

you can't run little girl, for it is much greater. the old man in the clock is quick to take his victims,
'your time is done. the clock has stopped. calm down girl, it will all be over soon'

black takes over your vision, all you hear is the ticking of the old mans clock.

tick tock.

one by one they all stop, growing eerily silent.