The clock is ticking.
The lights are flickering.
Come what may, I’m still staring,
Into the vast vagueness,
Engulfing the mind,
With a steady gaze,
At the mountain of work.
Come what may, I’m still sitting,
Lost in a dark abyss,
Without the knowledge of dawn or dusk,
Pondering over empty tales,
Over thoughts that are long-lost.
Come what may, I’m still in quietude, A statue, a mannequin, everything is me,
Not even a mosquito can break the trance,
For idleness is all that’s left.