Left Behind

A ticking clock
Holds the secrets of the future
The boredom of the present
And the disillusionment of the past.

How can it be so?
That as every hour repeats itself
Every day, event & memory
Recalls, recoils & winds like time
To its starting point
And simply begins again.

The second hand must be an evil creature
To drum out such a monotonous beat
That can scar hearts & ruin lives
In seconds, simply seconds…Oh! What a cruel defeat.

You can run with it & greet each day
And wait for the suprise it holds
Or you can listen to it and all you can say is:
“What Fate belies my soul”.

How can time be so cold
A heartbeat – pulsing with no emotions
Ready to rip us apart
And end all those monotonous daily devotions.

Copyright ‘Songs of Broken Angels’ published 2003.

Left Behind

LomasneeMoon

Joined September 2008

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