The clock charmes five.
A little candle shapes a shadow on the wall.
It moves in franctions, in heat.
I can't recognize anything in a room that is mine.
Losing my way in my own room is frightning,
how can find my way in this world?
The clock charmes seven?
Where was I all this time?
I should have turned left, not right.
The candle still gives me a little light.
The shadow didn't move.
The sun did thou. It moved away.
I go. I stay.
The clock charmes, that's all.
I don't want to know how late it is.
The candle is out, no light, no time.
Darkness is the only one by my side.
I will sit here and see if someone will come to rescue me.
A reader sees every poem through his own eyes, yet the author's goal is to make him see the same things in his lines. I feel a message coming from this, that you must want to be rescue, if not sadness and time will get you away... I'm almost crying reading it and I do hope that the sun will rise again for the one who stays in the darkness, even if that person doesn't know how bad she needs it.
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