PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

thousands of stars scattered through the sky, implosions of raw fire

clouded from my window pain by city lights too dire.

lonely little unlighted lamp, unoticed by the many lit.

and from here, only two ticks of the small hand,

a place of light yet not so many lamps in its grit,

that modest sweet garden that the light takes as land.

fairy dust trails across the sky from lighted city to quiet town,

and the moonlight lights across the street leading to be found.

busy streets and humming cars, harmonised by gentle whisper.

but when the connection severs and settles something sinister.

seemingly only two ticks apart the craved silence too far...

but between those two dots on that clock several complexities lie.

burdened by misfortune their cogs scrape together unable to hit the second dot.

and it appears as if no problem lay at all.. and all is left to ask but why.

because as close to the bare skim of contact from that second is now not.

but the cogs shall begin movement and perhaps not to far after all,

for once they begin this movement the cogs will never turn back.

forward only.. clockwise is what a clock knows from rise to fall.

and that lonely lamp will grasp its light and escape the black..

time will rest weary only in deaths arms, and work in lifes presence,

life will rest when time falls asleep, and death will hush its unspoken sentence.

shadows will rest when the sun is gone to sleep..

and the sun will rest in nights soft sheets..

but i will rest when my skin finds your soft embrace..

i will rest when im the resting place of your sweet sleeping face.