Enigma (A Contemplative Collection of Poems)

Thirty Ticks

Thirty Mere Ticks

The longer I hold on,

The stronger he gets.

The mother of my corpse,

The guardian of my demented being.

I can’t die.

It is coming.

Thirty ticks.

Three, two, one.

I lied.

I’m not alive.

It’s just you and me.

While I’m alive, you can’t live.

Thirty ticks.

I’m not breathing.

I never was.

They are coming.

The last enemy is destroyed.

Yet, the enemy is not dead. 

Thirty ticks.

Thirty seconds.

Dead, alive or gone?

It’s up to you to decide.

Blackness, silence. Nothing.

We have arrived.