This aching in my chest,
Feelings of regret,
Remorse was apart of my dying sorrow,
The life drained from the very existence of my pain.
I had the hands of a dying man,
Old and speckled like the dirt before our time.
I walked without pride in my stride and my unforgiving emptiness was adjourn.
For a moment I felt peaceful with this walk of mine.
Then, I collapsed.