The hands of the clock move in a smooth circumference.
Ticking away the seconds from my climatic day.
Ticking away the minutes from my life events.
Hour after hour, my life turns gray.
Turning present into past.
Finding a window to see through.
Opens an experience that breaks fast.
Breaking my world in two.
Passing my future into the unknown.
Never knowing the instances that happen suddenly.
What happens next I'll never know.
Pausing only for the moments that seem to be.
A memory reflecting its own visage.
Violently flashing its way into oblivion.
Creating a discordant illusion, a mirage.
It's not there, but I have something to believe in.
This lack of reality brings me unacquainted peace.
And it brings me unfamiliar faces.
So uncomfortable my mind is not at ease.
Your facade is something I cannot trace.
The haunting of your disguise is something I disgust.
Losing my trust in every vein.
Watching the clock gears turn to rust.
These memories are all the same.
Around the clock, constantly my life revolves.
Sixty-one minutes to escape is all I find.
The clock will revolve around my life once I evolve.
Escape is only possible on my time.
