Men Like Statues

The dreams retreat from the sun
and now the nightmares are done.
Into my own head they return
and with strange passions I burn.

What sings in eerie silence
a song sung just for me?
I can see at a glance
these do not hear nor see…
Like statues, old gods, 
senseless and strange.
Hear, that ancient tune prods, 
but they do not change. 

I must escape, no delay, 
for before the end of the day
before the night will return
the music's secrets I'll learn.