The Clock Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
The Clock
In the stillness of night
The chiming clock sings the hours.
Eyes in deep sleep don’t hear them anymore
Care not in the clock’s rhymes what’s in store,
But it knows its chimes are songs of dirge
For life’s harvest and then the down surge,
And it’s a mere witness in this open-n-shut game,
Its chimes a reminder of time it can’t tame.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
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