Untitled 9

On the wall, tick, tock, tick, tock Very slowly, so slowly, the days doth pass Haze clouds vision, but not of the eyes Blindness numbing the mind, past brilliance fading to abyss Weary of mind's turmoil; following suit soul goes to abyss Withering away, life's precious gifts; nothingness takes the eyes Body lingers on, spiritual death long has come to pass On the wall, tick, tock, tick, tock