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Image for the poem 13 O'Clock

13 O'Clock

12:58am, 12:59am; 13.00am

Flickering red figures find me, to mock
Find me to remind me that it's 13 o'clock
There's no refuge in reverie in my limitless limbo
With a presence outside gazing in through a window

I suck in the air; my sweat soaks the bed
As moonbeams irradiate all that I dread
All gathered as one, as is the will of their kin
With their empty eye sockets and sallowy skin

My heartbeat's a slow beat; I'm as cold as the grave
I'm caught by the riptide, borne away on a wave
And if I could, I would, but I can't close my eyes
Can't escape the horror of their uniform guise

Fiery red figures have been stopped by a chock
Stuck on the non-time of 13 o'clock
And all that there was, in the fathomless pits of me
Is draining away all the desolate wits of me

The toxin in my lungs is stagnantly stale
Those looking in are a mortuary veil
Morphing and blending like wind carried mist
Waiting for an exhale and the unclenching of a fist

Slow beat; no beat, I've emptied each lung
Purged my last breath, I'm dried out and wrung
It's as cold as the marble in a temporal nave
And as black as the pitch of an unfathomable cave

Smouldering red figures flicker and mock
In the gathering mist it's always 13 o'clock
No minute is passing in my limitless limbo
As my eyes turn to glass outside of the window

Nothing before, nothing after; 13 o'clock
Xaphan
Written by Xaphan
Published | Edited 21st Oct 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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