Old year

The quiet ticking,
Of the ancient clock,
Counting down the hours to midnight,
In the silence,
Of a darkened room,
And the pain-filled echoes,
Of a fading year,
Fill your mind,
Like a heavy blanket,
Squashed into every corner,
Every memory,
And gnawing grudge,
Making their existence known,
As they count,
The hours,
Minutes,
Seconds,
To a new beginning,
And the old one,
Goes out with a whimper.

~Rei Shiori