Now that everything has gone silent.
You can here them. The clocks are ticking.
In a forest filled with wilting roses. Broken
birds decaying in between the weeds. A
starving creature somewhere in the middle
of a desert, desolate and cold. In the ocean
a whale, whose dark swollen shape hangs
suspended in blue. The black center of
a scarlet flower. Captured in the sky a frozen sun.
And from inside you the same ticking;
the one that has always been there
but you never heard because you were busy
listening to other things. Now that everything
has gone silent in the moment you can hear it.
The ticking in your soul.