The broken watch you wear
Is made of your iron ichor
The shattered glass reflects your face
Which sours with each forgotten tick
How long has it been?
And how long until you let it go?
When most people stare into a mirror
They don't look for what was, but what is
So why can't you?
Clawing at a door of metal is futile
You must seek another way
But sometimes it is closed for good
And you must learn to bear the weight
There's no more sense in speaking now
You must choose this for yourself
Or stay as time and passion's slave
And never live another day
Past the time your watch did stop
About the Creator
Vicious Avarice
The ramblings of a man obsessed with fate. Poetry, quotes, and inspiration. I am a published author who rides the beast of imagination. A storyteller. Check out my children’s book “The Christmas Monster” on Amazon or wherever books are sold
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