An old man sits in an even older rocking chair.
His skin was midnight, as was his hair once upon a time
When it had adorned his head
Within its very curl was a diamond, a ruby,
Like the crown of the richest king

But now the only thing that curled
Was his back
Hunched in that old chair
You couldn’t tell by looking at it
But it was once a strong body

Yes, the old man was young once
He was strong,
He was beautiful
He was proud
As he should be

But he was too strong
His exterior was that of ice and steel
Not the fieriest touch
Nor the most jagged of cries
Could penetrate

And he was too beautiful
His boisterous laugh, his perfect smile
Most found loud
Obtuse
And blinding

His greatest sin was his pride
He thought himself a mountain
Indomitable
But when the valley burned
All he could do was watch

The old man sits in the even older rocking chair
Weak, ugly, and disgraced
He once dared to think
God was proud to have made this body
He wondered what He thought of him now