Even doesnt matter

She hears some sounds, quite steps descending,
Broken silence of the hollow house,
She sees some glimmers of the crescent moon ascending,
Reflected deeds of her soul in chaos.

The steps and movements of her body like they were not her own,
They keep on chasing her as if she was a hostage.
The light imprisoned in her eyes was taking her another loan,
To keep her there, in the jail of those years through the age.

It doesn’t even matter in the end
Without any purpose, without any source.
Her soul is lost in the dead land,
Without any map, without any course…

It could have mattered, if she’d been in the past,
But how long the time, the jailer would let it last…

She observes some people, how rush’s engulfed them
Pushing towards, closer to the inevitable crisis.
She eavesdrops some whispers, the melodies of condemn,
Pushing closer to the edge of being eyeless.

The voice and facial expressions like they were not her own,
They keep on making nonsense following the rules.
The sound enclosed in her throat was taking another loan,
To keep her there, in the cage without any escape tools.

It doesn’t even matter in the end
Without any purpose, without any source.
Her soul is lost in the dead land,
Without any map, without any course…

It could have mattered, if she’d been in the past,
But how long the time, the jailer would let it last…