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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