You may be old, but you are not governed by fear,
Death comes and you welcome it,
You laugh at the few who cry,
Your heart still wanting to be alone,
I want to be just like you,
But is that wise, Old Man?
You hate the wind,
Is it because you can't be free like the winged?
You think love is a foul word,
You embrace resentment,
I want to be just like you,
But is that wise, Old Man?
Have you ever had a friend?
I bet you don't need one,
I bet you never had your heart broken,
I wonder if you have one,
I want to be just like you,
But is that wise, Old Man?
                                              -**Firefly

The old fool whispers:
“The wind always lies”
His mouth frothing with spit,
Tongue attracting flies.
He pranced around,
As if in a play,
Arms growing towards the ground,
He groped his *****, mottled dress shirt,
Lifting it up to show,
His smirk suggesting a flirt.
In his cloudy gray mind,
He was in an oasis,
Looking on intricate desert, talking to the wind.
The wind,
Wild thief of old,
Wanted to steal the man’s heart of gold,
He wore many faces,
The dancer-prancer, the merchant, the *****.
He danced with the old man,
Tying his brain with laces,
The old man was twirling,
Humming a tune,
Laughing as into the water he went.
                                                           ­    -**Firefly

She sat in the old armchair,
In the winter of her life.
The last of her sisters;
A once comfortable wife.

With bony white finger
She traced the pattern of her chair;
Withered from age
Like the strands of her hair.

For her kids had come and gone.
Her fears, she passed them on.
An ok husband she had;
A time long ago, a time not so bad.

'Love' and spouse,
Kids and house
Were the choices she made.
Unbeknownst to her,
The passion she had
Was bound to fade.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That man in the corner,
At the end of his days.
A bottle of whiskey;
A familiar haze.

His cold empty house
Devoid of all life.
Followed his heart;
Never took he a wife.

Passion and success
(which he had to confess)
Were great (for awhile).
These were the choices that he made.
Unbeknownst to him,
His desire for love would never fade.

At the end of the night
All wrapped up in warm covers and plight,
He contemplated the answers to his
Internal fight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tell unto me
Which one was right?

The world was not what he knew no more
The reflections had betrayed him
All the pains were coming back
Inhibiting
Slowly
Reality sunk back in
Heavy and suffocating
Shackling

The music's changed
The party is still going on
Full of people he didn't recognise
Is he still a part of it?
Is he still invited?
What does it matter?
Everything
To him
Everything he knew of
Almost
And what it took to run was a blink away