Vain of the Old Man
Throughout time I plunder vast lands in vain,
Striving to live with dangers verge to strike,
Nibbling off of dieing shrubs with pain,
Loneliness takes it toll with no new sights,
An old man i am with a hardened soul,
Blood of old wounds stain my rags with deep red,
Rough with grief killing what my tears can hold,
Creatures strike when the shadows are not dead,
A small flimsy hut made with sticks and stones,
Blown over by every haunting tempest,
The nature of this vast land has unknowns,
As a blanket of old age forces me to the lowest,
Deprived of my loving strength I am weary,
For my day has come for me to die sully.
Copyright © Jordan Williamson | Year Posted 2008
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