When I gaze at my reflection
I see a soul with no connection;
A boy whose faith left years ago,
A man whose thoughts always whisper, "No."
Cold, glassy, lifeless, and pale,
I long for hope in those eyes to no avail.
Creases on my brow, though I'm only a score.
The lines on my lips plead, "Nevermore."
Withered and wrinkled and worn,
My face is a canvas that time has torn.
No longer will this god see Spring again
Youth must always atone for its sin.