Unrest

Strict clock of rhythmic contempt
Reverberating through your
Tangled thrashing hindrance
Rotates quickly, then it drags.

Cowing emptiness ensues
And this house of creaking things
Reminds of your unrest
In a world long-lost to dream.

Sliver of another day
Crawls across the paintwork
Through a crack in the curtains
That you were not aware of.

A milky wash of lost time
In the gasping paling sky
Another night of numb
Spent rewording stale thoughts.

Strict clock of rhythmic contempt
Blares through your deep failure
With assured precision
Sirens force the dead upright.