Monday, 12 January 2015

The Dead Man

Once a man came to my house,
And asked to be let in,
He looked wrought with distress,
His face was pale and thin.
I unlocked the door and waved him through,
He sat down and cried,
I watched completely helpless,
My tongue completely tied.
Presently he came around,
He dried his tear stained face,
I asked him what the matter was,
How he’d gotten to this place.

‘I am weak and broken,
My whole heart has been lost,
I’m feeling like an orchid,
Enveloped by cold frost.
I gave my life to find her,
And she threw my life away,
I’m drowning in the gutter,
And that’s where I will stay.
I’m a shadow of myself,
My soul has disappeared,
All I seem to think of,
Are her harsh and painful jeers.
I used to be so happy,
Before life was so stark,
Now I can’t face the daylight,
I only walk the streets when dark.’

I cried a tear for him myself,
And as the sun sank low,
He ate a simple meal with me,
And said that he must go.
As I watched him walk away,
I wondered of his fate,
Asking if he could be saved,
Or if it was too late.
He disappeared in shadows,
Almost fading from existence,
I wondered why he wandered so,
Was death his sole resistance?
Then I realised suddenly,
That this man's soul was used,
He was just an apparition,
He’d been dead since she refused.

Composed 2001