The Evening of My Soul

oh 'tis the evening of my soul and though I've often claimed it so, now must pause and truly show the scars and twisted wounds herein for onward is no option now and time must take its' bloody bow where are the hands that soothed my burning brow and where the smile to cheer me in my grief? why they have gone to dust and none remain the evil in the heart of time,the thief. so pull the shades and bank the dying fire, and please don't try to tell me that you care, it really matters not how cold the bier for when you look,there's nothing really there.