fauxcroft

The clock ticked slowly

In the life of the lowly,

Echoes muffled growing

Thoughts of pain sowing,

Negative thoughts blowing

In a wind of knowing,

The tick tock reverberating

So easy it is to be hating,

Living in the dark red glow

From above so below,

It’s like a cancer spreading

Infected by the power,

And southward heading

I won’t succumb to it,

I’d much rather eat the rich,

Than being their victim

I won’t become their sickness,

I stand with the dark red room

The clock slowly ticking,

My heart begins to quicken

I can feel my thumbs pricking,

As I sense something evil comes.