Night turns too quickly to early morn
As I follow the spark of an idea
And the tick of the clock fails to warn
The fall of the second hand, seems to scorn
As I write oblivious to reason
Night turns too quickly to early morn
I am driven to create ideas unborn
To be shaped into the arena
And the tick of the clock fails to warn
Between punctuation and profundities thorn
I do not recognise my tired demeanor
Night turns too quickly to early morn
Lack of sleep a serious cause to mourn
Tomorrow i will recognise this schema
And The tick of the clock fails to warn
Without rhyme or reason passion feels stillborn
Productivity precedes amnesia as
Night turns too quickly to early morn
And the tick of the clock fails to warn
This is an edited version of Ticking Clock removing all the ing words.