It was the midnight hour,
when he left nothing but a flower,
because of the anxiety and terror he began to cower.
In a closet deep within the tower,
Where the past and future is devoured,
and the “stop” button on the clock is the only one with power-
He knew his time was up at the midnight hour.
-NC Phanord
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Poetry: I LIVE and I BREATH
PoesiaA collection of vivid, emotionally relatable poetry.It's an art collection of words, that paints the thoughts and feelings of the author N.C. Phanord
