The Romantic becomes The Cynic
His Heart becomes The Stone
The Poisonous Fruit
At the Tree of Life's Roots
Chills him to the Bone

The Fool no longer Dances
Seeks no Joy from those he Loved
Their Smiles seem Dour
His Mood gone Sour
He's lost his Light Above

And the ***** Fires sputter
The Flesh turns Soft and Gray
What once was All
Helped bring The Fall
Nothing Rose can Stay

Then Passions aged to Bitters
For Reality means only Tears
The joys of Youth
Mean acrid Truths
At the End of all our Years

But who are We to Argue
And Death comes for Us All
Will you Cry at Night
Or Will you Fight
To find Your Light in Time's Black Pall