A Lost essence,
a whist soul,
Ceased in the broken clock,
Lost in the metallic hands,
Of hours, minutes and seconds.
Moments slowly faded,
Memories gradually vanished,
tick by tick,
With quaint strings of click,
And finally the time stood still.
With no ticking, only silence,
Like stuck in the cable of the fence.
This dread stillness in the clock,
Being broken and stopped,
Along with rusty numbers,
And a blocked pendulum,
Ceased in the middle,
Of solving life’s riddle.
This time is left untold,
No matter how much to hold.
Will this clock start,
To save those moments
From drifting apart.
To create more memories,
As an asset in life’s depository.
Will this clock click again,
To make the mundane melt away,
Into the symphony of bliss in the sky.
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Via daily prompt: One way
Very nice poem. With beautiful resemblance with clock pendulum. I totally agree that our life is like clock pendulum. And some time it stops, we surely think about it. We want that it may start again. But some time it happens and some it not. That is also life.
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Yeah ,that’s the message I want to convey here. Thanks for stopping by and appreciating it.☺️
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Don’t mention your poetry your ideas are deserve it. And deserve more than this.
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Thank you for your kind words..☺️
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Beautiful
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Thank you grabbety. I read your post in TIPB. it’s amazing and so honest.. I really loved it.
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Thank you…I appreciate that
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Such a good poem. The imagery is amazing
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ThaNk you so much for stopping by.. I am glad you like it..
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Very true. We all are living in the endless grind and life is just passing by. I like your comparison to the broken clock.
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Thank you. Sometimes our life’s clock just stop ticking in the middle..
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