rusted mechanical

Why must my heart

be as a gear of rusted

mechanical clockwork?

Centrifugal in nature giving

a dead sense of why;

such torque is in the

matter, of dealing

with my heart. . .

Just to be grinding

another moment in

time's roman numerals,

such a classical tragedy:

the question existing

came as dawn to dusk.

Doubt was in a

pendulum of swaying

controversy, giving me

thus a dilemma of palpitating

reason; so dare I stop,

the truth might cease my

robotic existence.

A continuum of stress

with no hint of resolution.

with each striking long

hours lived with no

answers worthy or valid. 

Was hence my reality,

in an engineered eloquence

ticking in metronome of cases

dire, of why my heart

is as a rusted mechanical

gear.

Author's Note

this was written last april. i was trying to figure out what my true heart's wanted was... it's still a dilemma... and a situation i will have to live with; i had never been able to figure my feelings out. I never had a solid feeling, only short and sudden, always on a cardinal swing. maybe it's my own fault: to think all to much what i feel like, distraction it might be?

Reviews

[Coffee Vampier]

I can relate to this... Its not always easy knowing what your heart really wants.. it gets complicated at times. I love that you used clockwork in this , its quite an interesting was too look at things :)