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Literature by theWitchofGrich


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Submitted on
September 16, 2012
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I look up and the clock chimes twelve,
And I witness silent whistles working the night,
Under the flaming furies of crimson candlelight.
Into a grave of loneliness with despair I do delve,
To find happiness beyond my own shrouded sight.

I look up and the clock chimes eleven,
And I hear quiet sprockets slaving the morning,
Under the twitching tears of yellow yawning.
Down in a hell of woe I so long to give in,
But I seek joy before I start my misery mourning.

I look up and the clock chimes ten,
And I see vague gears governing the day,
Under the burning blades of cyan clay.
Yet here in this pit of hunger I'm about to begin,
On a blissful path that led me on it's wondrous way.

Tick tock cries the cogs and gears of the clock,
Managing it's tireless triumph of time,
Over those realities of ravenous rhyme.
Eroding away the most rhythmic of rock,
As I run upon satin sands of lovelorn luck.

I look up and the clock chimes nine,
In a world without worry or fear of feeling fine,
Perceiving it's a humour to pretend blind pity.
Since nowhere will I seize sorrow in this atrocity,
Where faces exude emotions with eyes of electricity.

I look up and the clock chimes eight,
In a land without lose or horrors of haunting hate,
Realising it's a tumour to relate clairvoyant sympathy.
Since everywhere will I notice neglect in empathy,
While minds insight insanity with ink of infamy.

I look up and the clock chimes seven,
In a realm without remit or flares of failing forgiven,
Deceiving it's a rumour to detect psychic trance.
Since somewhere will I trace terror in romance,
While hearts affect anarchy with chimes of chance.

Tick tock cries the cogs and gears of the clock,
Managing it's tireless triumph of time,
Over those realities of ravenous rhyme.
Eroding away the most rhythmic of rock,
As I run upon satin sands of lovelorn luck.

I look up and the clock chimes six,
I'm afraid I've come under a heinous hex,
A curse and a damnation to which I sleep.
It's no sickness of the dark in me I mix,
But see me beyond smiles that softly creep.

I look up and the clock chimes five,
I'm afraid I'm no more angry nor alive,
A life and a death to which I sigh.
It's no illness of the void in me I revive,
But hear me above hearts that beat high.

I look up and the clock chimes four,
I'm afraid I'll corrupt what came before,
A past and a future to which I soar.
It's no madness of the black in me I ignore,
But break me upon bones that never bore.

Tick tock cries the cogs and gears of the clock,
Managing it's tireless triumph of time,
Over those realities of ravenous rhyme.
Eroding away the most rhythmic of rock,
As I run upon satin sands of lovelorn luck.

I look up and the clock chimes three,
Oh how I long to be forever free,
Free from all the stressful strife I've to endure.
Vacate the voices roaming inside of me,
But the devil so evil won't leave me be.

I look up and the clock chimes two,
Oh how I need to be anchored anew,
Anew from all the worthless worry I've to endure.
Clear the chatter swirling in me they argue,
But the horror so foul taints horizon's blue.

I look up and the clock chimes one,
Oh how I want to be away alone,
Alone from all the luckless love I've to endure.
Rid the replies haunting me to the bone,
But the reaper so cruel speaks in an eerie tone.
This is about a single person who over the course of a day thinks about different things. Kind of represents how my mind thinks about differing items. It was intentionally written so that each parts would appear to be a differerent voice but all connected by time.
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:iconcallingallmonsters:
CallingAllMonsters Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Whoa, this is truly an amazing poem c:
I love the technique you used, it's very interesting.
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:iconchewyraezen:
chewyraezen Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
love how it goes backwards in time. and that each had it's own voice. well done.
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:iconaylee95:
aylee95 Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2012
I love this poem... It's just so beautifully connected in a way that makes no sense at all.. but makes perfect sense.
I also love the way you went backwards with the time. Made the poem very interesting. :)
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:iconsquimberrycupcake:
squimberrycupcake Featured By Owner Sep 16, 2012  Hobbyist Photographer
This is wonderfully well written and I absolutely love it! :)
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:iconeventhorizon6:
Eventhorizon6 Featured By Owner Sep 16, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
This is very, very beautiful! I don't read a lot of poetry, but this was just lovely in the way you can picture the person thinking these things, and I connected to it because I often do this during the day as well. Great job :clap:
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