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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