The pages turn,

the days burn,

your heart hardens,

but every timely tick of the clock burdens,

even when it doesn’t seem to matter - it does,

there’s pain and sorrow but nothing to confess,

each time you feel it’s nearly over,

it returns as persistent as ever,

when did sleep become so estranged,

when did the mere idea of comfort begin to seem so deranged,

the frost seeps through the metal armour,

resistant to swords but losing to water - protection is just a glamour,

for while stone can stop the mighty cannons,

against rain, the granite dampens,

the misery that festers inside is as liquids as burning gold,

but don’t forget it’s the hardened pieces that are shown and sold,

melt inside - burn to ashes for all it matters,

but when they look make sure what they see is so cold their teeth chatter,

there is nothing that stops the day from turning to night, nothing which stops the dove from taking flight,

if it’s listless joy you feel today don’t assume it’s bound to last till tomorrow,

the tides keep rising and falling don’t wait for a light that you can follow,

time keeps ticking, the globe keeps spinning, the sun keeps fading,

start fighting, no knight ever won by just evading.

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