It's time

to leave, for the departing stand too close

the tick of the clock grows louder, heavier

echoing within empty walls

calling, waiting

with each trickling second

running away is getting too hard

as the phantoms of sinned knights draw in

she knows

acceptance brewing in the midst of waging wars

it is only but ephemeral 

for the crier's plight eventually stops

even with blood trinkling and staining

hands of agony

will ebb into the numbing haze,

into new found freedom and hypocrite comfort

even with a facade home and the shadows

covering the past, forgiving

it won't be real

not at all