Hand outstretched,
Blood pours like rain,
On the wound,
There is no sign of pain.
Droplets on the floor only remain,
The carpet's clean, not even a stain.
Eyes burn,
Tears run away,
The expression is stern.
One's face, dry,
for they're only salt,
And no echo carries the cry.
Hair grows pearl,
Teeth fewer,
Searching for what we used to hurl,
Forever running,
With the wind and it's chime,
But it's no matter,
We're merely wasting time.
...
Have you ever felt that,
no matter what, no matter the blood or tears, we are wasting our time?
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