There’s a heavy cloud over this lonely town.
One, filled with raindrops of melancholia that heavily rain down.
It hangs over the houses like a blanket of mist,
Muffling the pain and restlessness adrift.
It creates a vortex,
As vast as all of space,
Where time can stand still
And seconds can interlace.
Their heavy “tick tocks “ can speak many ways
Of wisdom and culture and the good ol’ days.
And the people,
The people are no longer all there.
They walk in a slow march
through the crowded town square.
Their faces hidden behind sheets of paper,
An army of hungry dream breakers.
With eyes of coal and hooded motions,
they are almost completely devoid of emotions.
Just utter silence.
They make their way off into the rain ,