The clockwork days unwind their measured
coil as each meeting, task, and output stops
and there is silence, except my heart beating.

The structured years of toil, built brick by brick,
have crumbled till there is no brick, just virgin space
that seems too wide, too wild, too vast for me.

The future shows its unmarked, trackless face,
and I, in freedom’s grasp, prepare to wind the
clock anew and make a building just for me.

 

11/8/2025