Big Black Clock

There's a Big Black Clock
That goes Tick, Tock.

I sit here in these
Full but empty halls filled with
People whom are
Here but not here,
Attending but not present,
Here in body, but not in mind.

I feel for them.

Because I know for a fact
That I do not want to
fulfill my civic duties on
today of all days,
Having to miss a day from work
in order to sit in this hall.

As we all precariously look at the big black clock,
That slowly but surely goes
Tick, Tock.

I'm glad that at least I brought
Some things to entertain myself with.

Maybe Plato can keep me preoccupied
with his recountings of Socrates debating
everyone he had a chance to debate.

Or Sun Tzu can maybe tell me
how all war is based on deception,
and that the key to any victory
in the grand scheme of things is
to accurately and deliberately
know mine own enemies.

Or maybe Charles Darwin can
educate me on how every single person
with me in this room shares a
common ancestor with me.

But no matter how much I
delve the faculties of my mind
into these subjects, I cannot help
but be constantly reminded
of the Big Black Clock
that goes Tick Tock.

The ticks and the tocks
of the big black clock
Move so slowly, so coldly,
Like the slow but deliberate
March of time that we have all
found ourselves in.

Not just here in this lobby,
But in the lobby of life where
we wait patiently though against our own will
for the big black clock to tell us
when our time will come.

Tick, tock.

The receptionist then calls,
per random,
the people who must be summoned to
leave the lobby and go to their
respective offices,
locations in which none of us
had the faintest idea about.

Although, we all collectively drew
heavy, icy sighs,
as we all dreaded for our names to be called.

Many of us were placing our excuses down,
hoping that we may at least be able to
convince the lady in black that
we cannot leave to join her.

That we have our kids,
our jobs,
and our significant others,
whom we needed to dedicate this time for.

But all she does is point to the big black clock,
Whom with every tick and every tock,
Slowly marched time forward to our
inevitable calling.

And simply states:
"When she calls you,
you have to respond.
Even if you don't want to respond,
she will beckon you to do so."

Tick, tock.

Where I sat,
many people were called.

Some whom I've barely been able to
make acquaintances with.

Maybe this is how it is.

While we wait for the end,
for the big black clocks in our hearts
to call us into the unknown,
we try to distract ourselves from it,
try to make excuses for it,
until we finally come to accept our fate.

I'm still waiting in this lobby,
but I don't know for how long.

But I hope that I at least get time
for breaks,
and to enjoy the people who accompany me
in my life's lobby before
my big black clock
ticks its last tock.