[I'm entering this in my first contest, so any suggestions, criticisms or appraisals are appreciated]
Trapped in a void of misery,
the concentric hands slow down time itself.
Every second that passes is another spent alone.
I look to the sky, but you are not home yet.
I could be doing something else,
something far more productive.
But I stare at the clock
foolishly thinking my gaze will make you appear.
Why are you late?
Your arrival prolonged.
Accident, theft, uncompleted task,
someone else, a lie i cannot see.
But you are truth, a lie not here,
so something must be wrong.
Rhythmic ticking fills my mind,
echoing my empty thoughts.
Pendulum swinging, gong sounds,
breaking the surrounding silence-
announces the passing of another hour
with you time was not spent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem