The clock ticks, a heartbeat of an obsession
I see the face, that smile dries my tears
That warmth inside my ears, growing every minute
Consuming, unrevealed it haunts my every second.
The clock ticks, louder, with vengeance
An obsession was a second, now a minute, soon to be an hour
Overwhelming life, it fills the voids left behind from years of hate
Is it fate? Or just coincidence, a clock in an empty room.
Seconds pass by quickly; time is not alone.
The clock ticks, its sound is striking
It is chaotic; it is dishonest, loud yet soft at the same time
The obsession is mine, the emotion, the heartache
The clock is my heart; the tick is the heartbeat
The clock strikes,
The silence that follows is deafening,
An hour, a second could pass and no one would notice, it is empty
The clocks will be silent, evermore.
Was it love? Was it an obsession? Or just a clock in an empty room?
