The Room of Clocks

On the mantelpiece is placed a clock,
Forcing a smell too plain, with an aftershock.

The clock demands a light so bright,
Time flows designing a living of delight.

This room has ornaments too beautiful,
A clock grows largely from the Most Merciful.

The time of change has arrived from Him,
The death of a room is lingering, like a pseudonym.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!