The Crucifixion of Time

The Crucifixion of Time

The New Year starts when the dark bell tolls;
the past is left for a new beginning.
Unseen, unheard are the poor lost souls.
“They’re mine forever,” whispers Time, grinning.

At the end of each year, he’s sacrificed
of the altar of sin that the world’s created.
He’s crucified but, unlike Christ,
his longing for pain is never sated.

With each blow, each driven nail,
he chooses a soul to share the pain,
laughing as each is finally impaled
for in their loss, he finds his gain.

He exists between each tick, each tock,
only seen by those he chooses.
Eternity measured by the sound of a clock,
and the suffering of those he abuses.

Trapped in-between when the universe formed
he longs for the pleasure of light.
Denied this, his essence was slowly deformed
and he created his kingdom of night.

Souls hang on the pathways he has made,
each yielding the semblance of light
as a glow in the darkness that will slowly fade
until replaced on a new New Year’s night.

So listen well to the New Year’s bell.
Between each of the strokes, hear the screams
of those who have found that the true hell
lies within the darkness of time’s seams.


An entry for a contest that no longer exists
Line Count: 28

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