How deeply can one extend his shackles into the grasp of the night?Grins of silencing gazes, blinds the fluttering sight.
That smudges memory in deathly charcoal exposure,
The cracking clock on the wall so we know all is over.
Scattered to grains of salt and pepper,
Too often happy to expose and taunt the leper.
Who inhales this filth hoping one day,
To like all these memories be smudged away.
That white seeming honesty is a lie, you see
Twelve gasping hours choking on attempts to be free
From the all knowing all seeing omnipotent wretch
Scoffing like an owner whose dog is told to fetch
More charcoal to smudge each instant
More erasers to pull off the moment
When this clock was embedded deep in the wall
Before the times when mankind began to crumble and fall
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