An old man stares through the window pane
The cold wind is swaying the long grass
The man sits on a chair resting his weary legs
Weakness reflects from his withered skin

He is praying for strength and mercy
Silent devotion flows around him
The wall is covered with memories
Portraits with faces that never grow old

The dreams of the past haunt his lonely life
The crying face and voice of a newborn child
The piercing gaze in the eyes of grace
The first frail smile of the hopeful dawn

He closes the eyes that God once opened
And listens the wind howling outside
It cracks through the walls of old home
Deep to the soul of a man without a path

The yellow leaves fly with the wind
Covering the graves below the willow
The old man stands in the doorway
Wiping his eyes with soiled sleeve

He kneels at the foot of the graves
And touches the time-worn epitaph
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they shall see God

The grief of loss claws at his bleak soul
The wind carries the first freezing rain

With the rain appears a light
The bright ray of the cold autumn day
It illuminates the cliffs beyond the field
And casts vast shades upon the soaked grass

The man recoils from his distant thoughts
The rain flows along his furrowed cheeks
He stares at the warmth of caressing light
And weeps the unseen tears with the rain

He touches the grass with the palm of his hand
And lets the wind sway him towards the past
He follows the path of forgotten oblivion
And vanishes in the rain on his dying day

The pale shadows flickered on the wall
Offering a refuge from the dismal glance
The man sat at a table with his hands crossed
And muttered a blessing in a drunken stupor

The somber room reeked of oppressive piety
Spreading the disease of divine hypocrisy
In the shadows a wife and child slept
Weary eyes closed in a listless grief

A silence hovered outside in a pitch-black darkness
The man's delusion
Demons with lizard-like tongues and blackened wings
A curse on his beloved
His fearful eyes darted around the desolate room
And caught a shotgun hanging on the wooden wall

The man sat at the edge of a bed
And farewelled his sleeping family
The cold barrel pressed against their forehead
In a calm devotion before the blast

The thunder silenced into a whisper
And raised the smoke of lost tomorrow

The freezing rain ceases to fall on earth
The raindrops glitter like stars through the leaves
The man leans against a high cliff side
And mutters alone in an echoing deep voice

The man recalls in madness
The past of bleak oblivion
The figment of intoxicated mind
The gruesome murder of purity

And the guilt weighs his heart
Ending lives without judgement
Entrusting the soul to mercy
Watching as the time passes by

The man raises his head in sorrow
And stares beyond the cliffs
He dreams of the timeless fall
Air that frees the fallen soul
The ground on his tired sight
Turns into vast darkness
The man gathers his last strength
And takes the first step of the ascent

The man beholds the valley beneath him
And stares at the beauty of his last sunset
The light drifts away beyond the horizon
The shadows grow longer with the wind

The man looks at the light that withers away
And feels the cold that veils his dark, fallen life
He woes the grace of past and the frail fond smile
In the forlorn of his lost and somber soul

The man looks at the darkness that lays below
And breathes the air that carries him through the depths
He stands still on the edge of his final step
In the forlorn of his lost and somber soul

The man steps into emptiness
And feels the air that frees the soul
He falls and falls into the depths
And feels the descending blackness