THE TICKING HANDS <br />OF THE CLOCK <br />HAS ITS RHYTHM HANDS <br />MAKING IT UNERRING WORK <br /> <br />THE HANDS OF DESTINY <br />HAS MANKIND IN ITS GRIP <br />IT IS NEVER FUNNY <br />SOMETIMES IT HURTS LIKE WHIP <br /> <br />LEAVING MARKS, RED AND LASHING <br />PERHAPS AGITATED MINDS FASHION IT UNAWARE <br />NOT WISHING TO AS METEORS FLASHING <br />TO FALL TO EARTH IN A DOWNBOUND CURVE RARE <br /> <br />LEAVING NO MARKS, BUT WHITE PATH <br />THE FRAGMENT DETACHED BY ACCIDENT <br />FROM THE FIERY SUN TO ITS LOWLY GARTH <br />FLY IT DOES GOVERNED BY GRAVITY UNINTENT <br /> <br />PATH MARKED ACROSS THE BLUE SKY <br />FACE WHITE AS IF SMOKE OF COOLING EMBERS <br />DOWN, DOWN, SHE WENT WITHOUT A SIGH <br />HOPE AND FAITH IN THE SMILE REMEMBERS..... <br /> <br />THE TICKING HANDS <br />OF THE CLOCK <br />HAS ITS RHYTHM HANDS <br />MAKING IT UNERRING WORK <br /> <br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~malini kadir<br /><br />malini kadir<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ticking-hands/
