Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock trapped between the stillness of life, nor in meditation nor in blackout he works completely in an out.
Nor fresh air, nor stale smog, he sits in one congested square, nor birds singing, nor winds humming, all he hears is the clock pinging Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
Nor sunlight, nor sunset, he works far off from what all gets, the natural process is not his style, he is designed to work amid the tiles, and ubiquitously the clock flies Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
Nor Food for life, or drinks to gratify, he picks on loads to fill his neither appetite, nor energy he gains or quality he retains, strive to the clock which always talk Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
Life like machine, living in his neither attitude, nor time he gets to sport, nor time for privileged journey. Soul on a single track, the bed to sleep and the square to keep, sounds the ugly clock Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
He has one wife, and a sweet son, and she just realized that his dad is no more fun. Lost in his observation and out of full attention, he lives by the click which sounds Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
Windows are dark and windows are bright, but her love is now just out of sight. Pledges were taken and life once awakens, but those days are now avidly shaken by Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
Empty his house; Empty his life, no one left to rejoice his flight. Billions he earned and Billons he dare, love ones have gone not to enjoy their share. The walls with frames now have dust of shame. Departed with sun and Departed with moon, Life did gaze at that empty roof. Silence in his home and Silence in his cadaver, spirit on its way to forgive him never.
Found between the silences of existence. Life external life gives him full attention, nor does he care the clock nor does he bear the click, once mislaid his life in Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock