Clockwise
a single moment stays
another builds a solid maze
every tick of the clock displays
rising iron walls with slates to gaze
the tick of a tock is the groove to insane
caught on a string, can’t swing away
twisting in the turning fate
the push of a hand
tips the flow of sand
the other hand pulls the weight
forever sharpening the keys
iron mask or the height of a crown
darkness moves on frightening ground
a shared space in the wait
etching forever the sound it makes
a scrap and rattle in a tick for a tock
make doors for walls complete with locks
held open no more, all eyes to the floor
faces keep pace for the evermore
the minds design linked by a chain
a constant companion remains
ticking a song and hammering sublime
safe in a pocket of time
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
Copyright © Sheer Terror | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment