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Desolate The stone has lost it's color long ago. Shy gray, with darker smirks it grins. As if it tries to say I'm sorry. A statue from the years of age when good was good and bad was bad, but I can not divide them any longer. Crumbling leaves beneath my feet as I descend down by the staircase. Each stone it kneels and leans away we've troubled them too long now. Somebody's hurt, I guess. So sad. But I won't cry or pity strangers. There is no song; the birds won't sing. They're humble, but they're sleeping.
Can't you see? someone is yelling. But as I turn around the city's desolate and quiet. There's no one there, there never was I'm all alone and empty. As single leaves descend from sky I'm on my way to join them. I'm going down the hollow road. There's nobody to see it.
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