Time is the shackle
binding my shaken bones,
the villainous chain
wound tightly round my moans.
The clock declares our slavery
with each ticking tremble,
and mercilessly I'm thrust down
to with it slowly crumble.
I shiver within these chinks
encrusted with caniving shards,
And weep for what talons have crippled me,
who dealt me these cold cards!
Yet I know too well each puncture
is from knives the hours sculpted,
for the hours are my master
and I'm their exhausted puppet.
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