An Eternal March
Representing an eternal march.
A continuous sway, despite weight.
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Tones which echo through an empty hall.
A face with no expression.
Age catches up, an unstoppable force.
Dormant now, collecting dust.
Hands manipulated by passersby,
Waiting and praying to tick once more.
Careful now, it could topple.
It might creak, it could crack, it may rattle.
Moving, for the first time in ages.
Separated at once, from its familiar indent upon the floor
This is its maiden voyage.
Its first exploration of the world.
Only to be caught by the force it reflects.
Broken and battered, branded with the burden of knowing
That this is its final resting place.
A grandfather clock
Sits quietly in a second-hand store.
