The Key
a warning shot
triggers the clock
heads tick to every second
enters the flip of a magnet
a distinction to please
entropy finds a seat
takes the rein
broken strings gathered neat
provokes an impulse
the overture tumbles
pushes a soft warm breeze
leans in with an ease
steals the air I breathe
holds the key
Terry D'Arcy-Ryan
Copyright © Sheer Terror | Year Posted 2018
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