Clockwork sun, and clockwork moon,
You have your paths to take.
And on this earth,
This clockwork earth,
We follow in your wake.

Clockwork life, and clockwork death,
We’re built from wood and tears,
Inside these eyes,
These clockwork eyes,
I hide my deepest fears.

Clockwork smile, and clockwork laugh,
I bring all people joy,
But in this place,
This clockwork place,
I’m nothing but a toy.

Clockwork gears, and clockwork spring,
To move is clockwork’s will.
But in the end,
That certain end,
All clockwork must stand still.

Your Rating:
Inkweaver Review 2008-09-08T08:55:00-05:00

2 replies so far. What are your thoughts?

Alexys Fairfield said...

I loved your poem. I like the intricacy of clockwork in general. Much like people, it depends on movement and how we change because of it.

NathanKP said...

Thank you for commenting. I'm glad that you enjoyed my poem.