Door stays closed, chain locked
this clock sounds the tick but never has it tocked
all the time imagined, owned, though physically blocked.
Immortality wrapped inside a rotting corpse, living dead
mild rejuvenation from what lies inside, a sacred pledge
and the ticks turn to
tocks from the stupid fucking clock.
Was it something I said?
And just like that, gone right back to the starting block.
Day one was forgotten and remembered, turn back around
hindsight cursed as the body comes alive, demons surround
the continuous hunger growls for the soul denied, lost and
found
take a knee in rest, at the makeshift cross atop the burial
mound
and venture forth, on a renewed journey, across oblivion grounds.