Powerless

Without the loud transmission
or the cybernetic thrall
I’m lulled into submission
by the clock upon the wall;

each tick is like a cannon shot
proclaiming the demise
of one more chance to change the plot
that circumstance supplies.

I hear a low commotion
as it clatters far away
which calls derailed devotion
to forget the ties and stray—

such furrows crenelate my brow
that shadows blind my sight,
I’m blowing out the candle now
it’s time to say goodnight.