My steps echo in the silence of night,
As streets, empty, repeat what I say.
After a day of unspoken hours,
I make my way home, where silence continues.
Just think of tomorrow, next week, months and years,
But who'll think of seconds, insignificant time.
The clock will not leave behind any sound,
So I hear nothing, only delusions.
Nobody's waiting, pure darkness inside.

This place embodies my state of mind.
Is this solace, or just an illusion
Of cries for choice to which I am bound?
Free to move forward and stay in the line,
Just to distract yourself from these tears.
Calling the voice that's lost deep within you,
I keep up this act, my only prowess.
Still in these shackles of lying dismay,
As a faint smile appears in sight of light.