When the Clock Strikes Twelve

By Praneet Sarkar

In the blistering midsummer,

When the clock strikes twelve,

A veil of silence will swathe your way,

As your hollow hearts delve

Into mine, that'll by then be withered away.

Your lips will tremble, as will your hands

While your ears fetch tales from the wreathing quietude,

To recite of the day our paths crossed.

My voice will dare intrude

And echo in the silent hall of your minds for a lifetime's cost.

Some will hail, while others mourn the merciless veracity.

The minds of both, still and all,

Will evoke my dialogues and shelve

Them, while sketching my final act before the curtains fall...

Only when my clock strikes twelve!

By Praneet Sarkar