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Two Passings of The Arms

Sit, watch.
I dare your eyes to dance
Through the outer glass; a trance!
Falls your fate, falls your mind,
My arms do you no harm;
But only to leave behind
Just an instant, just a minute;
Maybe an eternity of your time.
You owe life to steady circles,
These circles be of cycles, mine!
Perching on my wall, blind;
I feel your heart on my static beat, tied.
Unaware of passing instants;
Trapped within the limits, limits of time;
It binds your being, takes good times,
Ticks claim your fleeing mind!
Its memories I shall inherit;
Reminiscence gone before my merit!
Pushing life along, do my arms of power;
Do you hear, my song, of battle?
The passing tick, tock: your final hour.
Sit, watch.


Tick, tock.
I crave to bend you by the arms;
By each hand, by each tick, by each ring
Of your alarms! It is that one thing
That keeps me moving at your pace,
Deciding my fate, pushing forward,
Precious moments you rush to erase.
Each tick threatens to end
A new circle that is yours, to rend!
Perching on your wall, high;
My heart intertwined to yours, but why?
Your tock may not be mine
To stop, but I shall claim time:
Feeling trice every instant;
Stealing sixty seconds from each minute,
Your ticks I will fill to their brim,
Teeming with my film
Of memories gone, I will cherish,
Recollections sweet, shall not perish:
My life prolonged with each motion, repeating;
The only passing is of your arms, beaten.
Tick, tock.




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