Clockwork

Reads: 63  | Likes: 4  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about being tired of the monotony of life

Submitted: October 05, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 05, 2018

A A A

A A A


I am a cog in the old clockwork,

My flesh is made of wax, granted life,

A profaned flame consumes me whole,

The wax and the fire, a one-sided strife...

 

I am a cog in the old clockwork,

There is no exodus from the long night,

Mercilessly my shackles pull at me,

Was I truly powerless to its might?

 

I do not wish to be a cog anymore,

Take from me, these accursed eyes,

I see naught but the infinite twisted dark,

Drained by ennui, I say my goodbyes.

 

I am a cog no more in clockwork,

Freedom came at a very heavy cost,

The machinations shrieks under stress,

I could not aid, to all, I was forever lost.

 

Looking back no more on its false home,

This wax doll no longer feared the burn,

The rust tore away that defiant cog,

The other gears continued to churn.


© Copyright 2018 r4z0r. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: