By Kamlesh Tripathi

pendulum clock karma pendulum clock


When the clock strikes time,

It tells my mind,

That in the interest of a lifetime,

I need to do something sublime.


When the clock strikes time,

It reminds,

One needs to climb,

The lofty mountains of harrowing times,


For time is never kind,

In the bewilderment of a lifetime,

Where in the cadence of strides,

Timing and direction needs to be right.


Where the clock-dial looks like a shrine,

And the needles, the pricking needles of a lifetime,

And the pendulum, the uncertain sting of time,

Is when the clock chimes to announce the unmet rigors of time.


And between the clock and my mind,

Remains the eerie twine,

Of sad and merry times,

In the hobnob of ethereal mesmerize.


For let’s not blame the clock,

To what we suffer over times,

For clock is no shrine,

That carves our noxious times.


For we bring about our own time,

In the rigmarole of enduring spine,

And when the clock strikes time,

It only reminds of our sync with times.


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