The clock never stops to tick
not even when dead
the birds though often go quiet.
The buildings rot under this incessant rains
the eyes though never go dry.
I waited a century to speak of my heart
my mouth yet speaks a word nought
the world just goes the way it does
not even my very walls await
to hear the whispers of my silent cries.
The clocks have stopped for me I see
and yet they have walked a thousand miles
for you and for them - the ones I loved
not even the winds turned
to sigh at my plight.
That is well, life gentlemen,
we all are bound to walk alone and strive.
Often we meet these merry men though
who in love offer help, but are soon lost
in this merry-go-round - and we end up with but ourselves.
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