A bird could be heard in the garden,
tweeting it's song to the world,
that of which was listening anyway.
Everywhere else the scratching of pen to paper
was never as annoying as now, sitting in the warmth
of the inferno that was my future.
One time they asked us to sit there whilst we witnessed
the horror of a poor spider being squashed
by the books of History. Never mind.
Tick-Tock went the clock, constantly,
never moving, never changing.
Time seemed to stand still which always seemed to
make everyones live hell in that room.
Everyone waiting, hushed into panic, frantically
straining their minds to nothing, only to produce nothing

The nights are longer now than before,
always dark and cold, drawing in the mist,
clouding our vision through the prison
in which we waited. There was no stoppage
in time anymore, just the silence that
enveloped around us.

Only with the distant rumble of thunder
could any change in time - the candle of a
heart slowly being extinquised the only sight
to be seen through the yellow panes of
smoke and ash for miles, chocking the life
from the flame.

Clammy and stuffy don't even begin to describe
the horrors of where I am trapped. Encased in
the coffin of earth and rubber, always wet and cold
from the rain which ceased to stop, filling our boots
till they could fill no more. French ground is where
I stand, and French ground is where I die.

Life lives no more, only the rats see little hope,
nibbled away from frost-bite of death and disease,
only the strongest survive the month. Even the horses
could sense it, their long faces reflecting the horrors
that were to be expected soon, one last push they say,
one last push till it ends.

Repulsed by the tightness in which I was trapped I reach
forward into the yellow cloud, spiralling itself through
the wire which surrounded me. One breath was all it took
to wipe the life from the eyes, so thats all I took,
one breath.

What is time to those who wait for it to finish,
from the clicking of the clock
to the clocking off from a shift,
only time can tell, but it doesn't wait for me.

The power of time are all around us everywhere,
from the time of steam and coal
to the power of a few atoms,
only times shows power, but it doesn't wait for me

Sounds of time can always be heard everywhere,
from the creeks and goans of old bridges
to the outcrys of the flocking birds,
only time shows music, but it doesnt wait for me

Beauty in the eye of the beholder always grows everywhere,
from the nature of the water flowing over hillsides
to the imagination of a human being,
only time shows creativity, but it never waits for me

Like the sea, the weather is unpredictable.
But sometimes, it can be told exactly to the point,
even to the time of the sun, but at a cost.
Faith is lost in those who dont get it right:
an understatement of unjustice leaves no trace.

A tempest cannot be calmed so easily as bird flies,
neither can the waves stopped pounding the distant shores.
Only the sun can brighten it's spirits.
Even that has difficulty smiling, what with man destroying
everything that created it, destroying their own lives with it.

After all this time of me picking up the pieces,
I'm still standing!
After all this time of me taking your anger,
I'm still standing!
After all this time of me feeding your love,
I'm still standing!
After all this time of me waking your demon,
I'm still standing!
After all this time of me fleeing you,
For that, I cannot remain standing.

The calm waters swelled around the rocks,
washing away those broken bones of Tommy.
At last I'm alone I think, once at peace
and now a tempest of rage through revenge.
He said no to my offer of peace, the one
change of the world changing hands.
But now he lies there amounst the fishes,
cold and slimy, gathering the rot of humanity.
I could of stopped him, but like i said,
he said no to my offer of peace.
Slashed and broken, a new day rises through
the mist of evening to bring the war of rage.
Now the tempest does rage so violently with
humanity of death and destruction in it's wake.