The Mortal

As he gets older

His rage lessens,

Tempered with acceptance

Of his limitations.

Once beyond reproach,

Owner of his own dreams,

The thought that he might doubt,

Never once crossed his mind.

The wild dash of his youth 

Now seems beyond his lifetime.

These days, sometimes even 

That moment of waking becomes 

An exercise in toil.

And that immortality,

discovered in his youth,

Has been misplaced.

And he can't find his glasses,

that would help him to see,

where he last put it,

Hidden as it is amongst his memories.