Watching the hours tick by,
Tick.
Tock.
Clock.
Watching the minutes slip past,
Tick. 
Tock.
Clock.
Watching the seconds fade away,
Tick.
Tock.
Clock.
Caught in the river of time,
a veil that moves,
Tick.
Tock.
Clock.
Surrounded by the ripples,
the little red second hand,
knowing it won't stop for me,
Tick.
Tock.
Clock.
Thoughts scrape their warped claws,
dipped in fruit of the poison tree,
temptations, feelings, memories,
as the harsh red flicks to 4 AM,
Tick.
Tock.
Clock.
Distant fingers of tangled light,
just enough to cuddle with,
help me bade until morrow another sore,
sleepless night.
And still,
Tick.
Tock.
Goes the clock.