Clock hands break,
Twisting,
Tangled in the threads of whispers.
Sound dissolves into light,
Flickering,
Pulse of a heartbeat, a flash of color.
Unseen faces blink in the mirror’s eye,
Are we the ghosts or the living?
Words fall apart before they land,
Spinning like a wheel of fractured glass.
Time is a lie we tell our bones,
Each second, a memory waiting to be forgotten.
We are not here,
Yet everywhere we move,
Shifting like liquid thought.
The ground quakes beneath a sky of fire,
Hopes and dreams turned to dust—
An ocean of voices swallowed whole,
And still we rise,
Into the void,
Into the silent scream of being.
