The halls are silent, an absence of mechanical ticks
The sunlight from the windows bears no meaning
Eons pass, or was it just five seconds?
The House of God, where time does not exist
The walls are bare, so much space unused
Why are there so many crosses?
And not a single clock?
No bell tower rings from above.
O Temple of pale walls, do your bells ring strong?
Do your visitors treat them as absolute?
Do they even mean anything when you cannot see the sky?
Is the birds’ morning song indistinguishable from their evening finale?
Do the faithful believers know how long their sermon has been gone when they step out those doors?