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Cathy

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

14 poems·Since May 2013
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Like Clockwork

November 16, 2013

I run forever,

Seconds tick on by.

It's always now or never,

Chances always die.

I need an escape

From this monster chasing me.

In my path looms a shape,

A tower rises from the trees.

Taking leaps of faith,

I scramble up the stairs,

The cold brush of my wraith,

Fills me with despair.

Every step steals my breath,

I know my end is looming near.

Before me beckons Death,

With his dark and evil leer.

Suddenly I am weightless,

Falling in the dark.

With all the strength I possess,

I reach for a spark.

There is coldness in my hands,

I cling to it with relief.

Trapped in this forsaken shadowland,,

I tremble in my grief. 

My lifeline suddenly dips,

And I hear a tick and a tock.

I am hanging by my fingertips,

To this eternal, merciless clock. 

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