![Free-eBooks.net](/resources/img/logo-nfe.png)
![All New Design](/resources/img/allnew.png)
Observe the presence of the pile driver
Bang, Pulse, Aftershock
in succession, it pounds violently down
feel the clock trick wrapped around the wrist
Tock, Tick, Click
endlessly in progression, it reels down
drunkenly like the planet in turning
and the fence line grows ever longer
stretching on the brown grass, basking in the winter day
the empty air of frozen chill
and it waits
Bang, Pulse, Aftershock
Tock, Tick, Click
and the sky becomes red with the perverted flames of desire
overlaid by white shimmering ghosts in the mist, a blood pool
sunset
glow filled fireflies trapped in the splashes of abstract watercolor
haunting softly as they drift closer on the shivering breeze
features of the long-dead are hideously visible as they approach
their zombie-like hands are forever reaching
Aftershock, Bang, Pulse
Click, Tick , Tick
the pile driver sputters from existence
the wrapping time trick warps its way to join its brethren
and the wrist is left empty
and the spaceship is overdue
existence is lonely and petrified
awestruck of dread planet possessed by the spirits of the night
overhead in shivering frames, the dance begins
Motion, Freeze, Flicker
one foot, the other, then two hands joined in the dead man’s jig
the celebration swings full under menacing starlight
though gradually sparkling orbs watch in increasing
disappointment
they wonder in louder wisps of vapor
they worry in their perverted tongue
the astronaut continues to decline their extended invitation
protected by the freshly established fence line
he can resist
he can await the incoming spaceship
visible in the falling star streak fading to the horizon
Flicker, Motion, Freeze
Tick, Tock, Click
Bang, Pulse, Aftershock
slowly the world returns to sober motion
the sky ceiling loses its spot like bulbs
and the crimson fades
color replaced by the pulsing pile driver
attacking into motion
and the fence grows ever longer