As The Clock Ticks On

by LadynStFreknBed©

My spirit laments as the clock ticks on
as days pass, lacking notable progress,
duplicated after each mocking dawn.

My mind’s ambition drives me to distress.
Contentment, a foreign virtue to me…
Short of historical is not success.

Alive are the great minds of history,
living through their works’ immortality
while I judge my art as merely debris.

Grappling with self-loathing brutality,
my soul’s encouraging whispers foregone.
Dismal haze subdues my mentality.

Perhaps tomorrow, hope I’ll chance upon.
My spirit laments as the clock ticks on.

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