The guest arrives w/ pure confusion

Viewing eyes are opening w/ red.

The air it feels like suffocation

Desolation breathing in instead.

The warning signs were always there

But ’till you’ve seen the mark you’re unaware

The guest inquires about the weather

Softly to replace the mute despair

The coffee lays untouched before

The whitened knees of people in their chairs.

The clock it marches on past light

Where noone dares disturb the wrap of night

W/ bowing heads and shriveled shoulders

Weakened kin are aided to their beds

The last of us choose to recall

Smile happy tales while dancing around death

And in our minds, try to insert, 

A wall that slowly closes around hurt.