• The deep clunking of the grandfather clock lulls me into a hypnotic state of mind

    A desperate moaning retches at my relaxed consciousness, and I am struck

    The malicious nature of mankind overcomes me and suddenly I start to weep

    Love is but a figment of the imagination, yet I weep for him, the man that never was.

    The grandfather clock’s consistent ticking, the rhythmic clunking, stops.

    And the last tear I ever shed breaks me free of this world.