The Bird In The Clock Sleeps But Never Rests

The colors of the sunset skyline in October,
The chords of a favorite song.
The thought of shared smiles and words spouting from friendly fountains.
Naught stops the march of calendar days,
Naught slows the shifting of seas.

A word that sounds like silence,
A look that sees no color.
A space, empty, yet full of nothing.
Naught stops the march of calendar days,
Naught slows the shifting of seas.

Damn it all if we all be damned,
Damn the gravity that thinks the ground a better place to live than the heavens.
Damn the air above and the soil underfoot.
Naught stops the march of calendar days,
Naught slows the shifting of seas.

Life be light and
Death be darkness, or
Life be lamented and
Death be delight.
Naught stops the march of calendar days,
Naught slows the shifting of seas.

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The Bird In The Clock Sleeps But Never Rests

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