Clockwise

Hours alone, staring at the ceiling
I can’t stand the insomnia that I’m feeling
I just hear the faint pulses on the wall,
Between each sound is a long stall

Tick…

Tick…

Its face is surely mocking me,
Staring with animosity
Wanting me to never fall asleep
Waiting for me to eventually weep

Tick…

Tick…

Under my sheets, I try to confine
Cold shivers begin to crawl up my spine
The fear of the dark creeps around
All is quiet, but there’s still a sound

Tick…

Tick…

Haunted by nothing but an inanimate being
I hallucinate at the images I’m seeing
Of fear and despair and terrible shock
Given by that accursed grandfather clock