Hushing Headless Pillows

A choir of cherubs,

Singing a silent lullaby,

Whispering unspoken dreams,

Hushing headless pillows.

An old rusty clock,

Absent a face,

Telling finite time,

Ticking away oblivion

A work of art,

With no portrayal,

No eyes to see it,

Drawn in transparent colours.

A vindictive young man,

Wearing a heart of stone,

Tearing away his freedom,

Wasting away his life.