Count the marks on the walls,
See the way it seems to fall,
Tick down to infinity,
Twice as fast,
Talk in rhymes,
And then the fast,
Nothing is eaten until the clock strikes endless,
Nothing is undone,
Unless it is boundless,
Screams of those unsure,
Of what they even fear,
Counting the seconds,
Until the world might disappear,
Those numbers in the clock are shorter than expected,
Those little ticking seconds,
Are all we ever could be corrected,
Reality is boundless,
Time is what—
A count?
See the numbers unrelated,
See the numbers mount,
Building to a climax,
And end to the sudden tick—
It’s time for unrelated worlds,
To suddenly hear the ending click.
Reality is formless,
Given space by number.
So hear it chime away—
And never be sure what amount is left.