05. The Lonely Ones

Listen to the scattered leaves,
Whispering secrets of lonely years;
They speak of the tear some, tortured one,
On whom the sun shines not upon;
Whose weariness makes his very need?
Of love burst with hate and bleed
When drifting past the friendless stare,
Wounded by battles, lack of care;
Who knows the hurt of hungry cries,
Is weak against their wicked lies;
The passions’ thirst he cannot sustain
And thus alone he writhes in pain,
While gaffers throw lies, embodied in lace,
And utter upon the loss of grace;
Offer mocking hands, short of length,
While his soul sprains it's very last strength;
Fingers grasp for the rocks of forgiveness,
Though they crumble at the sight of sadness.
On groundless grit his suffering scratches,
Falling through trappings of despairs' patches,
And shadows cast their cold caress,
To strangle the warmth, and then suppress,
The mounted moaning’s of emotions bawl;
And through the grime his crying crawl,
Whilst the needless crowd hacks with hate,
The hammerings leaving their heavy trait,
And deceit emerges to take its toll,
Triumphantly prancing, calling for more,
Trampling tears of the injured prey,
Whose pleadings desert him along the way?
Stranded with solitude, his soul doth seek,
Through the drowning of emotions defeat;
And reaching the core, he begins to weep:
The secrets of loneliness his whispers repeat

Author: Nigel G Wilcox 18.08.81