A clock

In the inky shadows
rests a clock
emitting from it
lovely tick tock

so familar
yet something strange
what about a clock
can one change?

upon the clock
sits an angel
so small and dark
he looks so fragile

but upon his face
rests a caring grin
you talk to him
he seems lovely without to within

he invites you to read
the strange clock
the red face now glowing
a strange tick tock

you try to read
you spend so long
you're trying to read
understand the clock's lovely song

and in the inky shadows you squing
trying to understand
but suddenly upon your shoulder
you feel an icy hand

the angel is now behind you
you realize he is no friend
from the beginning
he wished to cause your end

and you don't know why
but you don't have time
your life is flashing
through your mind

so quickly does death approach
you feel it's hands at your throat
quickly, upon your face
blood does coat

and you learn a lesson
in your dying instant
that everything that seems good
isn't.

the glowing face
is the last thing you see
and the demonic angel
who held your life in his hands, and set it free

this is weird.