The leaves fall and with­er
Pages turn monot­o­nous­ly
The cal­en­dar falls off the wall
I am the wit­ness, stranger

There are no ran­dom bursts
There is only con­sis­tent loss
The eyes become stones
I have felt it, stranger

The skin peels off slow­ly
Viril­i­ty is a dying flame
The mind is a rust­ed nail
I mourn you, stranger

Grey is your house now
The paint is thus extinct
The creep­ers are free
I reside there, stranger

A calm fire is burn­ing
Smoke hid­ing the tear
Devour­ing that arm­chair
I know of it, stranger

Mem­o­ries with­out colour
And an indef­i­nite abyss
Inevitable and unac­cept­able
Not your fault, stranger

Inces­sant hands of the clock
The wind pays no heed
Blow­ing away the dust
You under­stand, stranger

Light up your eyes
The wheels stop there­fore
Sun­light in the room
You may smile, stranger

Every drop of time
Pre­cious bead in a neck­lace
Silent mes­sage is con­veyed
I am a mime, stranger

[print-me]