The Poet, Pt. I: Dusk

In his madness tears were silent rays That warmed his body like two hands In his silence faces watched his pain In his state love felt like rain. On his way he found all sorts of men Whores and books would soothe his ache Leaned on the wet rail of a city bridge As cars passed by, his only friends Time would crush him in a restless sleep While others thought that life prevailed All those poems that he learned by heart Still unanswered they remain He faced the lies when he was not prepared You're never hard when you're thirteen He walked the city He had nothing to exchange His only work was not for sale In his anger he would base his creed While beautiful dreams would be kept unknown A noble man was soon to be destroyed In the old world of gods where good prevailed