Locked Yawp Poem by Hein Tay Za

The moment when everything has stopped,
But, tears don't fall, not even a single drop.
Mind crumbles when lies are tangled, then thoughts will murder.
Since the storyline's improv, who knows who will be the victim of sudden fall-off.

Functional — the routines are done without soul,
Clock hand moves on surface, yet deep down there is a toll.
After late May, touching with nothing made him whole,
Alone he drifts in silence, finding quiet healing as his goal.

The sky fits with uncry fog lift,
A pale blue sky turns into foolish blind.
The sky knows should this last, he will die bound in chaos' rhyme.
To not get fucked, all he needs is one YAWP.