See, there’s no crime
When the bell chimes
Though one can argue
It chooses its time
In the dead of night
When the sun doesn’t shine
And adding insult to injury
It never treads the line
By keeping time
Which is fine
It delivers its message
In a gasping rasp
A tone tilted by echo
As if singing its last
Feeding us sounds from the past
Making sure that memories last
But where to begin?
These sounds from within
Haunting and pure
With an effortless roar
From a bell that’s no more
Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure
That there’s no crime
When the bell chimes
But before
Before?
Before’s also no more…
The Mansionic Perspective 
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