A clockwork’s hand is divine
shining so bright in the light of time
its reflection on my eyes
seems readying to despise
my life decisions’ reprise
and i’ll do it again and again
on a worn out paper with an inked out pen
therein,
my decisions materialized
only engravings, i know but visualized
they show me that nothing can be something
categorized.
then burnt by the blinding light
to give me a chance to forget
and remind me that not all that i was is set yet