The Clock of Ashes

Step by step,
as I walk
through this dire storm of fire,
I feel my soul,
this rotting clock,
wither away with its desire.

Becoming drier and drier,
Leaving me on the wire.

Leaving my prints on the ashes
as I jaunt through the ways of life,
I feel the pain of a hundred lashes
ripping me like a knife.

2016

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