Violin melodies lazily swirl and curl up to your ear.
But the ticking of clocks is what your brain wants to hear.

You’re staring at the picture of the one you love – it almost seems to glisten compared to the purple calla lilies surrounding it.

The frozen moment of life held in the wood frame,
It puts the beauty of everything you know to shame.
Its starting to waver in your glazed eyes perception,
a watery welcome: what a noble reception.

Do you hear her voice echo like I do?
over and over, in my head like a redo.
A redo of life? no, that wouldn’t be right.
But you can still hear her. will you ask ‘come back.. please?’
Or will you sit, huddled against the encroaching cold of the breeze,
hating the fact that your tears turn to ice?
And each ounce of love will come at a price,
let me remind you: a slice of your heart.

As the second-hand counts down to your last loving look,
the blustering night dies away with your mind already took.
And the ticking reminds you, your time’s almost up.