The Old World

From changing to stopping
From a glance to a hateful staring
With a word of meaning

Things has grown from everything to nothing
Shadows that was to be walking
Now they are there on black’s hiding

The laughter that could be anywhere be hearing
Is gone with her taking
And with the words of joy left sad sorrowing

That feeling that I hold the earth
When it moves when all are bold
Now helpless am I and on my own world being cold

The echoes that surrounds my universe
Has turned soft backing up to my own verse
That whatever it would pledge to say, would turn back to me as a curse

Leaving things old
As is of molds
No life, love is sold