She knows all and sees all, she knows me and my fall. She ticks, but never talks. She moves, but never walks. She continues to move, cold and indifferent. Her vacuous winter stare, bold and deterrent. All this poetry about how she never rests. Crooning to her ticking groove, playing to her pricking move. She moves on as I write this. She writes this as I move on. • Time • "We think we all have time. But it's Time that has us..." ~ Jonas Kahnwald #dark #time
