I captured slow life and know it well Like the back of my broken hands We accept our solace cloaked As friendship gripped by time And modern man, A liar holds a fractured posture That says it best when nothing at all Graced in patience and blessed with fear, Scratching at my door I can feel there's movement After fading grey and silence pass Like a shadow losing contrast As the night crawls over last But life is surrounded by flowers in bloom, Slowly dying, Age is cursed and I'm trapped in a dark oak casket Driven by a hearse My eyes are filled with the years of regret, I can't take back.