He sat there in the streaming light,
Silent, settled like the darkened night.
Rays channelled through the greys of ancient gloom,
Purifying his soul, natural hues of the moon.
But the lonely air of the night, began to squall,
His lonely life doth take its toll.
Flickers of darkness enthral his thoughts,
By which his mind will be mentally caught.
Darkness will soon swallow him from inside,
In conjunction with loneliness, they will abandon his pride.
The bright white of the moon, will be the last thing he sees,
As he pleads to the lord, to set him free.
Lonely do these thoughts he make,
That draws his blood like a bleeding lake;
Replace with a stream of flowing pain,
To bless his freedom, gushing from his veins.
The lonely night, his only friend,
Falls with him to his inevitable end.
The darkness has swallowed him whole,
As the death of this man, had become its role.