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Literature Text
I listen to quiet
In the dead of the night
Alone with my thoughts
And a lamp that won't light
The only sound breaking
Silence sublime
Is the tick of the clock
That can't keep time.
I think of the future
I think of the past
I think of a present
I know never lasts
With face set in stone
Heart strings so fine
They pulse to a beat
That can't keep time.
The ages keep marching
Unyielding they go
When ours are to stop
Is not ours to know
Encoded in starlight
Memories entwine
So continues the clock
That can't keep time
In the dead of the night
Alone with my thoughts
And a lamp that won't light
The only sound breaking
Silence sublime
Is the tick of the clock
That can't keep time.
I think of the future
I think of the past
I think of a present
I know never lasts
With face set in stone
Heart strings so fine
They pulse to a beat
That can't keep time.
The ages keep marching
Unyielding they go
When ours are to stop
Is not ours to know
Encoded in starlight
Memories entwine
So continues the clock
That can't keep time
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i got the inspiration for this when, during a power outage over the winter, me and my father were sitting at the table in the dark and quiet, and he says "and the only sound is the clock that can't keep time." there was a certain poetry to that, i thought. then he farted ("ooh, and me!") and it kind of ruined it. but it was nice while it lasted.
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