Deus ex machina

God spoke to me from a cuckoo clock,
his speech was slurred and slow.
And as I heard his secret word,
the room did start to glow.

He told me of the serpent,
that being of such deceit.
He told me that all came to end;
the world fell at my feet.

My ticking memento mori,
that timepiece of despair.
My calculated mechanical void,
the void that is always there.

And as I close my eyes to sleep,
I feel it crunch and grind.
As seconds tick by slowly,
time is one thing I can always find.