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
