Friday, April 10, 2009

Tick Tock

Not a sound

But the sound of the clock

It says three

But there’s no sleep

Not anywhere around me

Thoughts, if that is what they are called

They engulf me like a snowstorm

And then they bid adieu

Leaving the mind

As blank as a whipped blackboard

A tear might have dropped

But the cold freezes it in the eye

And then there is cackling laughter

For after all it is a day so bright

Well at least on the outside.


nirvana said...

Nice :)

PS:Cackling laughter reminded me of Voldemort in Harry's dreams. Scary :-s

Abhimanyu said...

I like the poem :) And the title goes very well with the poem.And a nice ending.