Indistinct
It's musty, it's dark
A candle burns unaided, spreading a false glow
He stares impassively at the shadows
Only time around him grows
He's lost the grip of his callused hands
For he no longer has anything to hold
He downs another sequin of the fairy
Another story lost, untold
All life that is left, is held in his fruitless breath
He's lost all sagacity and heed
No better uniformity than love and death
Not even compliance to bleed
No covet to be freed from his life of desolation
For only an empty world would await
No use to question his life of ruins
He's only a man, indistinct and obsolete
