Juge Sopczak - Clockwork

Ultimate death in a distant view,
unknown to a lot but familiar to a few.
Aware of what happens when no one's around,
the torment of noise, the silence of sound,
the shovel that digs, the serpent in sand,
blood that comes pouring out from your hands.
Clockwork like seasons, the world is confined
into a machine that's been built in your mind.
You long to be free but you dare not say.
Clockwork suffering, your life ticks away.

Juge Sopczak

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/clockwork-2/