Time

i wrote this quite a while ago, it was originally the starting paragraph of a book i'm writing, but i thought i'd out it on here as a poem.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The finger on the clock moved.

I saw it,

I saw it creep along steadily toward the next number,

Nothing could stop it.

I felt it,

Every second I felt the vibration bury deeper and deeper into my bones.

I heard it,

The dreaded 'tick, tock' 

The sound pierced my heart, deafening to my numb ears.

I tasted it,

The taste of metal and blood filled my mouth.

I smelt it,

The smell of time.

The smell of time running out.

Cold.

Metallic.

Death.

Author's Note

I know it's not rhyming but bear in mind that it was originally intended as a chapter in a book. Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Mandy Rose]

The dreaded 'tick, tock'
The sound pierced my heart, deafening to my numb ears.
I tasted it,
The taste of metal and blood filled my mouth.

I'm glad this poem doesn't rhyme because that would sound forced. I absolutely love this part, the word choice is fantastic and you have a lovely, abstract writing style.

[louisa]

thank youu!!

[Saddam]

I smelt it,
The smell of time.
The smell of time running out.
Cold.
Metallic.
Death.

It is more than rhyming. Very good write. Impressive write.

[louisa]

Thank you!! :)

[Saddam]

you're welcome dear.