Echoes

The clock is ticking, my life inert, frozen,
In moments as old as a relieving summer,
In memories that are but alive.
And the coldness of their frozen replays,
Nothing but sand slipping away
From a palm so wide open
That all my strength is still so scarce
To close and grab the last grain of present
From falling away to kindred rivers.
I struggle to sail my boat,
Away to safer streams
Unrippled by the fall of boulders of yesterday
But i'm stuck in a whirlpool
Swilling myself in yester smiles
While I drown in ignorance of now's nuance.

I hear echoes, my past is still calling ,
My mind ceases the journey
But hands begin rowing to escape
The hollow reverberations of sunflower-ed memories
As if feet struggling to climb a steeping slope
Braving through chilly winds of my mind's coercion.

The unkempt boat breaks in two,
And the crack echoes to far and within.
The clock stops ticking.