Ancient Script

Now solitude flares in silence
You must speak to it,
only the drowsiness that ties your shoe,
that raises its head
know I am aging faster,
The train rattles into dusk
how to go on until tomorrow?

Nothing touches me
I often lose all desires
on the street,
Is it me dreaming at its own pace?
sunrays often slash the shadows
Is it myself I leave behind
in an ancient, torn script?