Caving walls
Hollow spaces and
Empty cases
Deranged
Deformed like that made of brick wall
Brittle stones beneath my feet like that of rubber
Caving a path to where a destination is unknown.
Moving forward and steadily moving backward tripping over my feet and landing on the brittle stones which carved my way.
A clock is ticking and time is running out yet slowing down.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The clock sings a tune
Is it a sign or is it a warning?
I'm weary
Picking myself up I take a step on the brittle stone beneath my feet which carved a path each step like that of thorns beneath my feet
With each step, fear creeps up my back like that of wind howling
I can't move it's daunting. What is this morbid feeling?
It's like I'm stuck in time
Wait...
The clock stopped ticking
Where am I?
NO
What am I?
YOU ARE READING
The Time Everything Changed
Poetrya collection of short poems which each tell its own story
