In riddles

Out of the riddle,
How far is the middle?
The view inside-out,
Without fear, without doubt.
There’s silence inside,
But where do I hide?
Since all of my doors
Are out on the floors.
Now my clocks go backwards,
Shoveling backyards.
With my last drop of will,
I’ll start standing still.
But what do I make,
IF there’s nothing to take?
I think I’ll just wait
For my life’s bait.

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