Quoth the Phantoms

The slaughterhouse that governed our clock
was destroyed in a war
that everyone who bore witness to
Died in.

We float about the minute and hour hands;
the second hands were smart enough to
leave before things got too ugly,
to loan themselves out to
another foolish pair
for the highest of prices
and a moment of ecstasy.

And as I stare at the ruins
of my world’s last beautiful moment,
I know that you
are somewhere out there
trying to walk a battered line
that only a bumbling idiot
would have ever considered a decent idea
to trace in the first place

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