chimes tend to resonate when they are struck with force, they tremble and they cry out -- is that why you’re shivering now? is that why tears are wetting your cheeks? they call out to me, your ringings, and i always come. â€˜but don’t worry’ is what i want to say. i want to tell you to stop and never be sad again, but chimes never stop when they’re told to, so i just hold your hand and i pull your body close to mine and i wish for some kind of power in the world to let me soak all of those shivers into me. â€˜i will take on all of your worries’ is what i want to say, but will you let me? so i chose to stand there, in comfort, by your trembling chimes with my hand on your cold and reflective metal -- so beautiful -- hoping, with fury and with vehemence, that i can do so much more than just absorb the shocking trembles of your chimes. there are so many of them and so many intruders that break into your tower, only to strike your chimes with mallets of contempt. some resonate for a short while; others take a forever. â€˜why?’ is what i want to ask -- why do you not stop those that pain you? why do you not barricade your tower more? why? is it because you want to hear your chimes ring? do they sound so melodic to you? will you be so vain to never stop those ringings? they don’t sound so harmonious to me; they pierce my ears and they make me cringe, yet i always come to you. do you not even recognize the tears that fall beneath your eyelashes? what a truly pitiful soul you are. but still i choose, the lonely and faint figure i project against your giant chimes, to stand there with my hand on your cold and beautiful metal -- so reflective. you will never answer my questions, even if i ask them, you will speak not a word. sometimes i wonder why i stay locked in your tower -- is it because of your reflective metal? is it because i see myself in you?