Growing older and older,
my friend.
My life will soon reach
its end.

I've grown tired of hope
turned to dust.
Feel nothing but hate, fear
and lust.

Dreams were faded by time.
Just punishment for many crimes.
The shadow that lies within,
a testament to many sins.

Another life I could live,
but no change would that give
for a weakness in my spirit
leads to lives lived in limits.

Alone in my bed.
Not death that i dread
I die in my house,
with naught but a mouse.

Abandoned my sister,
my nephew, a stranger.
A crime now long past,
yet never called me crass.

Two parents are lucky,
they died, I was forty
and never they saw
my heart's dark claw.

No tombstone for me,
more loved as a tree.
No epitaph stands
to witness my lands.

There's nothing to mourn
'cept the day I was born;
and nothing to say
for the price that we pay.

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