The Timepiece
James Dinsmore
Tick-tock goes the clock,
A moment you can't regain;
Time laughs at our demise,
As slavery's wound up again.
Wind-wind, the duty's done,
Now submit to the will of the timepiece;
Let its hands force you forward,
There's no chance for your release.
Gong-gong, the dirge is sung,
As time mourns at your death;
All are incapable of fighting the hypocrite
Who measures each man's breath.
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