The Chime

Gazing through the swirling fog;

the cloying mists of time,

hoping to see

the ones I love,

before the clocks cold chime.

 

Beyond the final curtain;

the call of a tolling bell,

what destiny awaits me

as shadows fall

over all that I know so well?

 

Will I become one with eternity,

a leaf flowing gently downstream,

will days long past

now dictate my course

or the darkness lift from my dreams?

 

Wind whistling through the trees outside,

taunting the depths of my soul,

whispering, wondering,

has the moment arrived,

is it time to pay my last toll?

 

Mists creeping from every side

ignoring my desperate plea,

for just one more page

in the tome of my life,

let my pen, at last, set me free.

 

Gazing through the swirling fog;

the cloying mists of time,

will I finally see

the ones I love,

before the clocks cold chime?

 

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 2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.