When Time is Slow

When time is slow,

And you're certain there was the call of a crow.

The chime may bellow,

But the sound moves low,

Across the firelight field,

Trembling the waves, unable to yeild,

Rumbling through the valley, I'll raise my shield,

To stave off the beast, so unappealed,

Encroaching truth of patience emits,

An innate scream that simply won't quit,

What more to do but hautely sit,

While only my energy benefits,

From the spaced-out ticking.  

-FractalLuna-