Atop the moonlit hill

there lives a lonely man,

He shouts and screams all night

as fiercely as he can.

The townsfolk beg he stops,

they need to fall in slumber

But every night the stubborn man,

their wishes he does encumber.

Their anger begins to rise

and the petitions gain some traction,

Whilst never asking why

the man repeats this action.

The truth that hides behind this man,

a truth he’ll never tell,

he shouts all night in fierce rage

to be saved from lonely hell

When the fall of night arrives

The world becomes quiet and still

There’s screaming silence within the air

that only the bats and owls can fill

When the fall of night arrives

The clocks all seem to stop

Time no longer moves

As if the day has been forgot

When the fall of night arrives

Into dreams, people delve

All except for me

Who sits and waits for twelve

When the hour of twelve approaches

The day will be brand new

All my worries will be forgotten

And I’ll no longer feel blue

So I sit and watch that hand strike twelve

As though it’s my obsession

Then always saddened to realise

Time can’t heal my depression