Strikes On The Clock

Is it true, sin is seen?

How far does it go?

Is it stretching like the ocean?

Or blinding like the snow?

Does it hurt, to be found?

Or is it better to sink?

If death is a bane,

There's none else to think?

Hellbent and wretched,

Or fair-skinned but slow?

If compulsion ain't a sin

What does the world know?

What does the world know,

Maybe, it doesn't need to.

If it's already been decided--

No difference to put through.

Strikes on the clock

To refuse is one way

Strikes on the street

Yet the darkness will stay.