Bleeding Clock

By Danny   

You don't know how much my heart drifts when I hear your name,
The beats of this life's rhythm somehow don't feel the same.
Shameless with these lies that we conform to bend the fabric of time,
Wound around this pulse watching the spring on this clock unwind.
Tension in these hands have warped the diamonds of the hour glass,
Minutes have lost seconds in this fraction that has long since passed.
Grains of sand from this time have blown out of this realm of existence,
We bleed the clock to fill this void in this space left by loves absence.
The way this bell chimes is a tone that can only be heard by deaf ears,
Ran so hard for so long I can hear this bleeding clocks grinding gears.
And here we are bending minutes that are sure to eventually break,
Like a dream that's stuck on repeat from a nightmare that will never wake.
From this coma I confess the writings on this faded scroll,
Wordless meanings I recite lining the walls of this black hole.
Within this darkness I wander aimlessly in this lost space in between,
The prophets prediction was a paradox that was better off unseen.
Caught in this frozen moment just before these worlds begin to collide,
Boundaries push to adjust these missing moments of suicide.
I am left with this broken clock bleeding lifelessly in my hands,
Searching for these missing moments in these lost grains of sand.

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This Poems Story

About a love that's running out of time