The Clock of Grief

Missing you a lot more since you have been gone.

The hands of my guilt tick. First hour,

They fathom the sadness of my mind,

Next hour strikes, tick- tock,

The hands count my tears,

Another sixty minutes and

They measure the emptiness you left behind.

Anger, denial, loneliness, pain,

Such the hours pass on,

The clock of grief, two revolutions

Every day, ceaseless torture ,

Suffering your loss all over again.

Give it some time they said,

But I should know better,

Time is a captive of grief.

Stuck between the hands,

Stuck within the hours,

Stuck revolving twice everyday,

Revolving the clock of grief.

Time is a captive, not unlike me,

No way out, just hurt and ache.

Death might set me free,

But the clock will only stop, never break.

For grief provides no escape.