Clocks

My clock stopped working long ago
And I didn’t even know
That all the misery and pain
Have left me nothings, left me vain.
My skyline is so undisturbed
And nothing seems to be quite as I hoped.
But as I hop through life and death
I will become what I forget.
And all this sweetness of forgotten
I will forgive, and you’ll be gotten.
And all those smiles, so cheap and vile
Will leave me empty in a mile.

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.