No Vanity Set For This Chap No Way

No Vanity Set For This Chap, No Way (in praise of immortality) Modesty an understatement, when eyes chance to look askew at looking glass, mine reflection caught at a glance, an old man's piercing dart mirrors my blinkered acquaintance faint recognition communicates immediate tacit admittance boyish good looks faded with morning glory of youth as senescence didst advance. Similar to the strikingly handsome Dorian Gray, this mortal strictly shares penchant to affiance a pact with father time, and devoutly pledge allegiance to remain forever unaffected with ill fated biological alliance even if mandate to pay with my soul as sole allowance to stave off the ravages of old age maintaining glowing ambience of boyish good looks, or...die... twill be to late for an ambulance to rush lifeless body forthwith to hospital emergency, an immediate appearance of rigor mortis, a dead give away. Cumbersome degradation of corporeal essence breeds arrogance born of desperation, where chronological ascendance robs cherished commodity, thus pained angst to suffer aging accidentally evinced looking askance hints of unavoidable assistance when wracked by incontinence, thus rendering incumbent orderly attendance, hence awareness awakened to singular choice as avoidance, where vigilance espies silent auction as decrepitude ousts clutching buoyance quickly fading steamrolling capacitance to cling (by the merest thread) fat or slim chance against depredations of... inevitable circumstance trumpeting "NON FAKE" absent cognizance, sans horribly wizened wrinkled countenance!