As the sunset hits the light,
life hits him with the snow terrible,
blowing all the pieces apart,
leaving dead cold memory of a tart.
sharing a bench on the waterfall,
the waves leave the toes numb,
drowning him into a maggot brain,
silently walking away is the train.
Time flies back and there finds again,
drenched in love, now a lost man,
whispering to the grass abstract,
thoughts in a high cage cracked.
Voice echoes in the head,
as he cries in the valley of dead,
shifting through the glassy wind slow,
is a man dried of confidence and glow.
Bed reminds of a coffin comfortable,
the touch of the hooded hangman,
dreams bleed the sanity lower,
as he waits for the sleep to take over.
