Clock of time

RSM0812

Forever laced within its might,

A tragic end for you to fight,

Where no one wins and None to lose,

The rope around my neck a hose.

I hang and await the order,

To send me even further.

Down a lonely rocky road,

Where hoards of silver and yellow golden

Wings will soar me far.

Further then a place I’ve been or ever seen.

And horizons in a landscape of half slept dreams.

Only to awake the same.

Slowly dying by the clock of time.

 

 

  • Author: RSM (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 12th, 2025 10:07
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 16
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Comments +

Comments1

  • sorenbarrett

    Images pour though this poem as if it were a dream. The line (And horizons in a landscape of half slept dreams.) is marvelous One metaphor on the heels of another keep the reader on his toes. A lovely write.

    • RSM0812

      Thanks Sorrenbarett. I havnt been getting your writings in my feed as much as I used to. I'm looking forward to catching up with what u have been writing.



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