Wrath Of Time

 

In 1979, my great grandfather died,

when a cuckoo clock dropped on his cuckoo head.

On his deathbed, he warned us, for the wrath of time was coming.

And since then, never saw I, a glimpse of time,

For all clocks from the castle, were disbanded.

I wondered if time could be stopped by killing clocks.

Thereafter, Life took an unexpected turn.

I ate when I was hungry, and slept when tired,

Played till I was breathless, and learned when required.

And I never really got the concept of melody or rhyme,

I couldn’t care less, I didn’t know the time.

Those surely were the happiest days of my life.

But when I saw my first hair grow gray,

That is when I started feeling afraid,

For something had passed, but I couldn’t recall what.

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So I ran away to the nearest town,

to find the meaning, behind my meaningless frown,

So much so, that now I was starting to rhyme.

 

With what I saw, I was quite shocked,

I do not joke, I saw moving clocks.

In hands, in pockets; and their leader, the one on the tower.

Tick Tock Tick, I see my life waste away now,

But it’s okay, people say, at least you know the schedule and how.

As if time has given a meaning to their life.

Now I have breakfast at Nine, and lunch at Two

And I do not sleep when I really want to.

I just remember how the night was so beautiful once.

 

But what is strange, is not my story,

Not how this society has twirled,

what is strange is, how a cuckoo took over the world.