Untitled 9
On the wall, tick, tock, tick, tock
Very slowly, so slowly, the days doth pass
Haze clouds vision, but not of the eyes
Blindness numbing the mind, past brilliance fading to abyss
Weary of mind's turmoil; following suit soul goes to abyss
Withering away, life's precious gifts; nothingness takes the eyes
Body lingers on, spiritual death long has come to pass
On the wall, tick, tock, tick, tock
Copyright © Dallan Hathaway | Year Posted 2012
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