high octave c

with the society kept aside
alone inside a room with cobwebs on the top left corners
the high octave c note that comes to stay
inside the ears, 'hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm'
as if after a slap on the left cheek
is the hum of a bee (or nottabee)
but just painful existence -
yet so joyous for the sand that flows through the hour glass
and a few hands that rock back and forth
the boat that sails through the seas of solitude
would play the black and white keys of the moonlit sky-walk
when the way is unclear and uncertain
72 should be an easy number to live away