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Jake Leader Apr 2013
Tick Tock.

Cradles the clock.
Second hand. Slow stop.
Nailed to walls.
So the clock falls.

Cogs making cracks
Springs, springing firm then lax.
waxen marks grinding
generating sparks as the hands point.

Moving to soothing,
sometimes brooding.
Handles the seconds
guessing it recons.

How many?

Until Tick Tock.
Starts to stop.
Jas Oct 2020
I
The rules of this game are clear.
It wins, typically;
A calm revoir
Imorisoned by a mind caught in rapture
In exile, persuades itself to be mute -
It recons with stealth during confession
Forges allegiance amongst its armies
For the sake of survival, and marries
The other which has proven to be insidious,
Ambitious!

— The End —