Tick tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Ti..
The clock stopped.
Both hands held straight up
like surrendering to the night.
All around, silence gripped tight,
the calm before the storm.
A hint of malevolence,
then the air started to drip. Transformed
into a thick heavy slick
of oily black unpleasantness.
The air tasted rancid,
the scent of rotten flesh implanted
deep inside the nose
and with a pincer grip it stuck tight.
The air still,
no sounds,
no movement.
No wind brushed curtains
swaying against the windowsill.
Even the dust particles
were barricaded and still.
Startled, the moonlight faded.
it was like time had ceased,
become weak and fatigued,
a completely different beast.
It was empty and needed to feed.
The only thing that moved,
lived, breathed,
was me.
Time was ravenous you see,
I was the main course
and I had nowhere to flee.
I could feel time eating away,
tearing at my skin,
agonisingly ripping away the flesh
like hungry wolves around a fresh kill.
My life was devoured,
it quickly soured,
I could feel the passing of ages
in the aching of bones, weariness
behind my eyes, my thighs
couldn't hold my weight,
my legs buckled
and on the ground I lay,
like a steak on a dinner plate.
Slowly being eaten away
by the unseen hands of time.
I glanced around through fading eyes,
the mirror I spied.
I wanted to look away,
but my eyes wouldn't stray
from the reflection,
the face,
staring my way.
For it was not the one
I saw earlier in the day.
This one was older, wrinkled,
weary and grey.
The lights faded away.
Only the black void
and the sound drifting, softly upward.
The final sounds I heard.
ck.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick tock.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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