A Tale Of One So Familiar
A tale of one so familiar
In dark tranquillity, sits the mournful watcher.
A beacon of melancholy, mantled in deaths sheaf.
Amidst a plume of shadow, weeps this bitter slave
Alien in demeanour, of hell he is beneath.
Shackled in a void, beats this fading heart.
A plain of deprivation, congealed in blood and tears.
Morose and numb with grief, he sits a world apart -
From all and every man, bludgeoned by such fears.
Adorned in scars of war, he awaits the bitter end.
Obsolete amidst the smog, archaic bouts of hate.
Of what will greet him in the void, one cannot comprehend
Within the funnels of despair, sits hollow ducts of fate
Manacled in fading hope, as tyrants slowly stir
Incandescent raging spite, the shining spots disperse.
The stinging tail of natures might, this frightened beast incurs
A solemn end to tragic breaths, the last exhale so terse.
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