After the wait

The hours passed
And the night has left,
Would it still be morning
If the sun wasn't there?

The rain after the drought,
The end of a storm,
The first word from a child,
The waking up from a coma.

Each move of the clock
Slices away a little hope,
Just how much is left
When this trial shall end.

Time does not apply

There is no day,
There is no night,
No hours nor minutes,
Only matter of heartbeats.
The time that doesn't pass
Are moments that your pulse
Had taken a break.

Unsaid

After all this is a tool,
Never capable,
Of communicating
That of the unsaid.
And all that goes
Into the void,
To where it can be,
Loud in it's own right.