Absolution second position

Could someone just find me, some soft absolution 
Not much - just a draft- perhaps an open doorway.
Or a give me a quick pull, on something illusional
That so frees the mind, upon this last journay.

The face on the wall shows our bitter longed wishes
For it constantly rests at just five to the hour
But in this place rests nothing but blamed hisses 
For the bell never tolls to spate our rough house row.

And thoughts that are here are now left unfinished 
They are a permanent reminder of this tragic fall
So slowly they recede: This half fragmented image
In soft recollection the clock slides in this squall

From this rage of displacement of fast fettered echoes 
That is grabbing us here and then driving us there 
I wonder if this wild journay will now forever flow on 
On a rich tapestry of dreams that will lead us somewhere.

Yet far from the fortune, that rests within solace;
There passes a madrigal: An echo of rhyme.
That time allows, before the tide here now passes 
For they both pass so sweet then slide far, far away.

(c) Adh 2015