Silent Cries, It Kills

Bells and gongs they chime, along my hours they rhyme, pallid face, they a deadpan, outstretched eyes, that deluge began, deep buried thoughts, along silent patio, they climb afar, distant hills brow, frail hopes, play hide and seek, false they speak, and all seems bleak, those beating nerves, immobilized in cold, like a dagger dressed, in fresh shed blood, carried once again, to that perch of cliff, her minute felicity, gone in a whiff.