Time And It's Agenda

I'm awakened once more, the time, 2 a.m.

in my head, there's a scream

but I don't give a damn

running away - only thinking of me

I cannot hide who I am

the terror tugs at my sleeve

reminding me -again- it's 2 a.m.

and time's a vain, hungry thief.

*

the clock has run out

I have sold my soul

there is no doubt

I've lost all control

I've no will to shout

there are 2 bullet holes

left scattered about

powder marks on the floor

*

the fragments lay crumbled

shattered and torn

discharged and muffled

my fears now airborne

a patchwork of regrets

displayed on the wall

re-paying a debt

taking the fall

*

everything's quiet

this must be a sign

laying in a field

full of sweet dandelions

in my ear there's a humming

a tune I recognize

a drummer is drumming

a tear escapes from my eyes

*

the silence takes over

the writing's on the wall

no place to take cover

an opened Babushka doll

laid out on the floor

no secret unseen

the internal war

ended sharply, 2:15

*