Watching the White Mist

Upon the feeble rythmn of Death's heartbeat,
I see the tales in your decrepit eyes.
The loss in your crushed heart,
The forgivness you seek in your numb finger tips.

The light in your face extinguished,
And the hate, lost through wisdom,
Your powerful maw has decayed,
And your chatter has silenced.

Pity lingers in the air,
Sadness gropes for purchase,
Upon the pale skin of the witnesses,
To the world's most sombre play.

You sought redemption throughout your life,
But they presented you with your gift long ago,
When both you and the earth were still green,
And life was still a novelty.

Time passes and the crimson embers dull,
Within the flesh hearth nestled in your chest,
When we look back you have left us,
With a smile etched on your face.