Old Age


My power and glory begins to evade,

My glistening beauty might fade

I have no stand on this land

And none to lend me a hand

Toiled, thus hard for whom.

At once, though none ever loom

Curse the time I forbade to hug,

A life that was beyond a buck

Some budge like aging wine

And live their lives in full fine

Others while kings, dwell as rags

And all a glimpse they in timber bags

A time forgotten to enjoy

Will never be back in joy

"Oh, This doomed age!" with a sigh

My Lord, my Shadow and I


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