The clock is melted on the wall.
Stopped in time.
And I remember,
yes, I do!
This sweeping hand of doom
that came to this.
This.
Molten in my memory.
I am possessed and the
clock is witness.
This.
That ever shall be,
and shall be ever.
Caught in a second.
Less.
Stuck in amber.
This, that defines me,
dreaming and awake.

 

12/2/2026