Wilting

Often days have seemed to come
but perhaps the sun is far to old
to let the warmth of simple closure
cover the shame of the son
for what is son but a word
and what is man but a dream
the lord of the earth
the slave of time
is man but the simple whim of the mind
longing for eternity
grasping for justice
all is lost in the hopes of immortality
dreaming seems to take the place
of all the things we once held dear
nothing brings the slightest joy
the world seen through a window of tears
And perhaps at last we found the truth
that man is nothing but a simple wish.