Tik, tak
En lille skrøbelig, men målrettet pind
Fra tal til tal, fra tid til tid
Når den er væk
Kommer den aldrig tilbage
Aldrig kan den stoppes.
Aldrig kan den forhastes.
Mennesker som skynder sig fra en selvopfundet og ueksisterende startlinje, til en uperfekt slutning som man aldrig når.  
En uopfundet og nødvendig grund for vores eksistens, og uden at være fysisk have mere tilstedeværelse end det egentlige menneske.

She wears white,
And it sparkles in the moon light,  
As her feet dangle from the ledge
Of her balconies edge,
And a toe dips,
In to the dark abyss,
Where the ground stoppes,
And air fills,
Where the wall is no more,
As she decides to plummet to the floor,
It won't hold no more,  
Her fingers on the stone,
Or the steel road,
Constructed by the mind,
That was once her own,
Yet she thought it was time to disown,
For it kept her on her knees,
Begging for a peace,
That felt so far away,
At a distance unknown,  
Yet her eyes could see,
Shards sparkling in her periphery,  
Though it was too late to take back,
choice's known to be bad,
Acceptance was her forte,
Agreement her reprimand,
So when her feet flew from their destiny,  
Her head was filled with insanity.