In shadows where the streetlight wanes,
A figure lies alone. Aware
Of life's relentless, quiet pains:
The ticking clock, The passing trains,
The empty space next to him there...

He reflects on daily strifes
In rooms where silence nearly reigns.
Reflecting on a fleeting life.
The moment's lost. The subtle knife,
That carves his heart with gentle strain

It once again marks down your name.