ClockTower

In this clocktower where we climbed,
in this moment where ticking chimes.
the clock doesn't stop, the clock covers you with rime.
and only by your hand, only under your command,
it circles back and twines.

roll it back to early seven, the starting hours in heaven.
a time where you can color however you like,
no crayons of black and white.
strolling down the memory lane; doing coin flips again.
back with friends again, not just with the occasional hello,
and sometimes nothing at all.
the vision acts like a mime,
you see your lost dime.
have your first kiss for a second time,
its so nice!, there is no taste of ice!
roll the dice!, once, twice, thrice!
don't you worry now dear,
you will pay later the price.

its already evening, its already past six,
the time no time can fix.
you stumble across what started the attack,
is this what's causing all this weight on your back?
its dark, it dresses in black,
sending shadows to lay their traps.
foot stuck, floors collapse,
water sliding back to your past,
drowning in what's hidden behind your eyes.
kick, scream, yell for help,
there's nothing to float on here except that spark of light,
but you don't have that yet right?
stop jogging then and start running; its past midnight.

the clock handle is shivering past twelve; fears delve.
no good night sleep at this night, no where to run.
the arrows aim straight, straight at your heart and head.
running in zig zags wont help, help yourself and kill those demons instead.
back in time for a fight, a fight for the spark of light.
"who I am?" is a road back to 6 am.
the dawn, dice, and a dime,
back in your hand for a while,
as you exit the clocktower of time.