A wound - not sore - beyond cure remains

Still and silent - painless days

Paltriness - Indifference

Life does remain quite lukewarm

Ecstasies all burn out

Alway being hollow

No ecstasies

A roughended face with furrows

Smooth it was in days of surprise

glorious days

Gone gone gone and waste

Endless indifference

Amazing indulgence

Quiet self-deception

A face turned white

A face turned white

Just mummies - An atmosphere of

Love preserved

No ecstasies

Fighting that boring silence

Joys have died from being quiet

No rush no love excessive

Life might turn out to be

A wound a scare and a hurt

Trapped in boredom days

From Alcatraz there's no return