I can hear the bells tolling. 

They are yelling.

They are yelling that tomorrow is coming.

They are yelling that I am no longer myself. 

I hear them in the dark as if it were a funeral.

The bells sing my requiem.

 

I can hear the bells tolling. 

They are singing.

They are singing that I am alive.

If only barely.

I hear them in my dreams as if it were a prophecy.

The bells sing me lullabies. 

 

There are no more bells.

Only I exist.

The tomorrow was barely a dream.

There are no funerals and no lullabies.

I am alive.