Age
Two scenes unfold, before us gathered here,
Two men shuffling forward on tired quests,
Two lives which were marred by a fateful fear,
Two people out to do only their best.
Forlornly they watch on, sad and lonely,
Their world of colourless blacks and light whites,
Invited not those who lived lives fully,
But those who possessed the sad, fading sight.
The silver moonlight cast a bleak, black tinge,
On the empty houses they called their homes,
The devils fire failed to make them cringe,
And heavens light, lights not their life's old tomes.
Through the blighted streets of condemnation,
They do not seek your offered salvation.
