The clock ticks
She lays
The morning sun
The blinds closed
Darkness
A knocking on the door
She lays
The door knob twists
Locked inside
The morning sun
Turns to dusk
She lays
The blinds untouched
A banging returns
The door springs open
She lays
Intruding the darkness
He turns pale
It was not fear
It was age
The clock ticks
He kneels
Looking into her pale blue eyes
Her stiff hand
Brings tears
He lays next to her
The silence
The darkness
Loneliness
He awaits his time
When the clock ticks
In darkness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A powerful and meaningful write, Diana... someday, we will all be at the mercy of the clock. Brian