Tick tock, Slow clock
Piercing sound of Silence.
Disturbance of tranquillity
or is it the silence of the storm?
Eye of the storm
Hands of the clock
Wings of time
Ma'at or Isfet?
Coming of Christ or Kalki
Impending doom or
Time of tranquillity
What tidings do the stars bring?
Frozen, bloodied dove in Berlin.
Blaring sirens of the apocalypse
or news of the red man Gorbachev
which sound will come first?
Carrefour, welcome Hecate.
Blanche´s final invitation or
Lisa´s ticket out of Dissocia
which ride is it going to be?
Sylvia, Blanche, Lisa, Sarah.
Mahavira, Buddha, Moksh.
Time, Destiny, Moirai, Jury
What is the verdict?
So much sound, yet no voice from the trachea.
So much company, yet paint can only last so long.
So many words, yet not a single syllable spoken.
So much, yet none of it.
Storm of Isfet, Impending Kalki
Blaring apocalypse, Final Invitation.
Snip my scarlet line, Atropos.
Slow clock, Tick tock.
This poem is about the unnerving silence and what follows. The poem is a person wondering what will happen next, is it the silence of peace or the silence before the storm?
This poem was inspired by a moment in my life where, in the dead of the night, only the loud ticking of the clock was heard in the entire house.
