The Clock

Sorry...something has gotten to me...

Clock

My  skin's delicate
Things get under it
Jarring harassing winding down
My inner mechanism
Coiling in tensed serpentine fashion

I must meditate
Get out of this state
My  body's howling
In foreign  tongues
Perhaps in other countries
I would be known
As a condition

Self diagnosis  self  healing
Crystals purify me
Water  downed reversed Fountainhead of knowledge
Life giving elixir

I must understand eliminate
The cacophony the wailing
Of  the mourner behind my music
The practiced lament  in my  speech

And I think people would say that I think too much
And I  need to sleep
Have happy android dreams
About annoying sheep

Aah...such depths the profound may plumb
The umbral shadows break silence
And scream
Don't  dumb me down...
This  life in the penumbra
Half light and  shadows
Is  Halloween existence

Take me thither
Beyond graven netherworld
From whence I may arise
Never
To see blue skies
Or electric dreams

In  the distant star studded  galaxies
Light is the rare visitor
Darkness then
Is  our only option
Business behind the 
Tombstone...

Yet such a sunny epitaph
When you recall me
With a little jerk

And hearken my name
All  shadows lighten then

Part of the pact.
Party gets over....
And dearly departed
Is the fact
Beloved your
price on request
Required
For  existence...
It's isolating angst..

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(c) Amrita Valan 2015