A Hermit's Sight

At night I often become a spectator of my own life

Of the words that I have spoken and the paths I chose

Each time I discovered how fickle time really is

And it’s a conclusion that many have come to

But it never misses to amuse me

A flame that once burned is transformed into smoke

With every hope that’s blown out, it gets harder to breathe

It’s not sad, maybe just a little disappointing

And many may have felt this in their journey of discovery

But it never misses to amuse me

Though my mind has never given up

These sounds and images are quite disturbing

And through this corruption and chaos

At night I often become a spectator of my own life.