The Darker Side of Poetry
Thirteenth Hour
All clocks stop dead as the time demon prepares to strike me again
A pause in time just to grind me down
As the clocks strike on its thirteenth hour
The time when darkness starts to makes its sound
Where bad luck and bad times are looming
Past evidence of the mysterious time pause and three pats on the head
From an unknown entity grooming
The shadows, the misty figures I see
Scratching on the wall and banging I hear
Sulphur smells and stale odours into my nostrils they appear
Am I being taunted or guided?
So disturbing that I just can't ignore
I know what's coming I've been here before
Are these gaps in time coincidence or spiritually corrupt
A natural occurrence maybe but I sense the worst
I'm just waiting for it all to burst
Why am I being force fed this thirteenth hours guilt forced misery
And weakness and pain
Who must be given the justice?
Before this time darkness possess my brain
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Thirteenth Hour
Thirteenth Hour
