Withered Man

The clocks shift their arms,
And every tick sounds the passing of one.
My last tick has reached,
So I sink into the grave I belong.
The family sheds no tear.
There is no weeping I hear.
A lying quote carves my stone.
Six feet under is where I now call home.

They aim to sell my bones to the devil.

I’m just a man who is withered.
Withered away,
I’ve already made my final stand.
Suffocation torments me.
Dead palms press to my tomb.
Lord extends no helping hand.

He aims to sell my bones to the devil.

Lay to rest as one so lost.
Silence is forgotten,
And the Reaper claims my soul.
One touch of his bones sends chills.
He’s the only one who wishes me from my hole.

He aims to sell my bones to the devil.

I’m only a man who has withered.
Withered away,
All have forgotten me.
Through hearts and thoughts,
My memory has slipped away.
Down below the six feet,
I sink below my grave.

All that are good have lost love for…
The Withered Man.