Mournful Clockwork
Tick-tock, tick-tock,
Silence hits me like a rock,
Waiting to face my final foe,
To hear those words I already know.
Clip-clap, clip-clap,
That solemn walk, that nervous tap,
His face is dark and full of gloom,
As he enters my silent, anxious room.
Tick-tock, tick-tock,
His sorry words are not a shock,
Their faces go pale, as white as these sheets,
In which I have spent my final weeks.
Plip-plop, plip-plop,
Onto the floor, Mum's tears drop,
Dad turns around; he can't bear my pain,
Or maybe because he won't see me again.
Tick-tock, tick-tock,
My love sits forward, our sad eyes lock,
But then mine shut, I hear her shock,
It's good-bye to my tick_
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"Painters paint their pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence." - Leopold Stokowski
"Do you know that our soul is composed of harmony?" - Leonardo da Vinci
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