Don't mind the lyrics

He walks alone, on roads unknown,

They call him useless, a man of stone.

A coward, a failure, a man so weak,

But he's more than that — a man so sick.

Nothing to own, nothing to share,

Just an old watch, beyond repair.

No tick, no sound, yet worn with grace,

A broken machine with a fractured face.

The strap of leather keeps falling apart,

Like something sacred, close to heart.

The world laughs at his lifeless clock,

But he never dares to pry or knock.

For once, it held a hand in lover's sigh,

A gift from his beloved, a weeping sky.

She left him hanging, no reasons told,

And time held a pause, his hands ran cold.