To take him down to who knows where;
Innermost and murky lair.
This is now how time is spent, counting the days of quick repent.
Ah for chilling bone this rhyme,
And suddenly unduly mine.
Horrors face, a widows crash, no more time for the movie star cash.
Yet furrowed deep with heady brew;
Dark sallow lines of former you.
In the mirror hazed in glass, summers gone and winters last.
Do you fear yourself to morn,
Of last years blossom now short shorn?
Tired winds of genteel age toward the totter and phantoms fade,
Still not met with rallied cheer,
But with the lonesomeness my dear?
Is this my madness ? Me insane? This my vanity now in vain.
To have lived a life in need.
Squandered gifts and shallow greed.
Nimble Thimble Tumble Time on your marching sure as I'm.
Cant you please just leave him be?
Just this time? For me?