by Musaab Omar Yousif
Tick tock… gunshot
The end is near
Its descent, we fear
Religions lost, faith silenced
The masses paralyzed, their hopes in darkness
The hand of the grandfather clock inches ever so slowly to fate unknown
Softly, slowly, yet swiftly to the drone of an expectant and terrified hush and roar
A frantic rustle
A shared anticipation
Each and every eye upon the instrument of Father Time
One side and half in starkest white
One side and half in shades of night
Arrayed in a near-perfect portrayal of the duality of existence
Birth and death
Sickness and health
Justice and tyranny
Happiness and misery
Tick tock… gunshot.
As the soul of mankind ascends in harmony and discord into the next plane.
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