2 am, the clock says.


A beautiful tangled mess.

plop onto my bed,
Draping a blanket of thoughts over me,
A moment of clairvoyance engulfs me
While I choose the pathway to disdain.
Excavated from the depths of sentiments,
Fueled by an overthinking mind,
The Satan comes after me,
As I willingly give myself away.
I tell him I do not need his help,
For I dig my own grave,
I steer my way for my soul,
And tour through the now lambent labyrinth.
I turn around to look at the clock
2 AM, it says,
A breathy sigh escapes me,
As I stay still staring at the stars above,
A blank buzz on my mind,
I see the thoughts go haywire,
Dispersing and congregating,
A fading fashion of their own.
I throw a dart at one,
I watch a thought stand brave,
The rest seem to scatter away,
Like panicked birds on a run.They get back together,
Making my mind a mess,

Linking through like paperclips,
For a purposeless cause.
The thoughts, I watch them grow,
Like moss after the rains
Unattended and uncared for,
Yet they put up quite the show!
The chaos in the calm,
They hopelessly keep me up.
Alongside the night who still stays young,
Scavenging on my thoughts.

4 thoughts on “2 am, the clock says.

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