• orpheous 6w

    Clockwork

    Atop a dark secluded creek
    Home to he whose conscience weak-
    With all my being submerged in she,
    Whose voice remains, it still must be
    The first of Eden's melodys.

    In thoughts I often drift away
    Towards the root of all dismay
    To whom beside my passions lay
    Has wounded I in such a way
    I'd put to words, but words betray.

    Her presence close behind him looms
    In mirrors, clocks and empty rooms
    And ears observe an eerie tune
    A laugh much like when flowers bloom
    Which heralds my impending doom.

    In dreams she lures me to her lair
    Where none set foot, none even dare
    With her and I and no one there
    Alone at last like they once were
    Along with this undead despair.

    Like clockwork then it starts again
    The quest to flee this once dear friend,
    That love I squandered way back when.
    I wonder would it lead me then -
    Back to you where time began.
    ©orpheous