The Ticking Heart

Tick tick tick
There must be a trick
To halting this horrid heart

Sweat beading
Wires taunting
Hands quaking forevermore

Cold metal
Beating iron I abhor

Floors on floors all up above
People safe and sleeping
This can’t be what they call love
My mind in sludge drowning

Each touch, a knife
Each word, a gale
Each tick, a life
Lost if I fail

Tick tick tick
Quiet hanging thick
Maybe I’m alone at last

No one left to save
They all have fled
I’m left here, a slave

And the tick tick ticking
Goes on and on
Empty space echoing

Will it end in truth or peace?
Ticking that may never cease

It means naught to me
I am deafly free

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *