The hall was quiet only the beat

The hall was quiet, only the beat

of time that measured out defeat.

I saw my face, distorted, stretched,

in glass where moments were sketched.

The pendulum swung, a heavy sigh,

as seconds ticked and hurried by.

My own eyes stared, a stranger's gaze,

lost in the passage of the days.

The numbers blurred, a dark design,

this borrowed face, that isn't mine.

Each tick a step I can't retrace,

stuck in this time, this mirrored space.