A door whose time cannot unlock
Crushed pulp and creased hands
An hourglass's double head, stands.
A door whose time cannot unlock
The unheard whisper of erased chalk
An hourglass's double head, stands
Before the keeper, is the bee that brands.
The unheard whisper of erased chalk
Following the ears of those who talk
Before the keeper, is the bee that brands
A cord to knot, licks up demands.
Following the ears of those who talk
A busy hum does best to stalk
A cord to knot, licks up demands
And for truth, shreds the strands.
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