The morning came without a sound The clock was ticking No time was found My soul was buried Underground A stranger stopped and looked at me Then disappeared behind the mist I felt a pulse beneath the stone A rhythm beating not my own The night grew cold against the glass My own reflection watched me pass I raised my hand — it raised its own I turned away. It stayed alone I heard my name behind the wall No voice. No face. No sound at all The house was empty when I turned But something knew That I had heard
