Falling like snow... so cold,
The time falls upwards on ideas
~Of white doors~

And heavy stones press hard
On battered nerves
~To break my will~

The hourglass turns still,
With backward steps
~To greet the other day~

And so it ends... they say,
When the piano starts to play
~On beat of sudden claps~

Such endless noise:
"It plays on words"
Spoke fair to me, my tongue

And all I am, I loved,
In words I write or say
And sought to play alone,

For one last time...