The withered body
Of an old lonely wanderer
Wary from trials that he's faced

His weathered face
Gazes at the sky as he wonders
Weary of this life, he comtemplates

Lost the key
To the gate of dreams
Enduring restless nights, seeking release

Longing for peace
To rest eternally
Entomb his dreary spirit, behind the wall of sleep


Cleansed his eyes
In preparation for the rite
Knowing this final act, he could not repent

Cursed the sky
Disregarding wrong from right
Gnawing at the doors of death, proceeding sans regret

Severing the bonds
Separating from the core
But the way before, rejected his presence, and cast him aside

Forever bound
Determined to pass he vowed
To recover his soul, restoring the essence, and reach the other side


Wandering again
Across the barren wastes
Searching with haste
For the key to undo his fate

Slowly reclaimed
The pieces of undying flame
Holding the fragmented soul
His apparition burning with hope

Piece by piece
He tried to reassemble
But the infernal puzzle
Incurred the wanderer's wrath

This Sisyphean task
In anger he cast it aside
Cursed to wander confined
Unknowing the purpose of life


The withered body
Of an old lonely wanderer
Fatality's irony, lifeless yet alive

His weathered face
Gazes at the sky as he wonders
The eternal futility, of the afterlife