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The Old Man of the Mountain
Unmoored, he mourns the world, torn
Heart broken by time, each beaten tock a groan
Every ticked moment, another tragedy borne
Of others unknown but by compassion's light shown
And made weary, by their worldly woes forlorn
Tears flood, then bring drought, his visage stricken by pall
And in desert dry airs, a cliff by breeze is cleft
Scoured by wind, haunted by the ghost of the not yet dead's call
Foreseen by erosion of a once solid rock face, now bereft
As an old man once gazed somberly, only to fall
By crack's crick, and crag slick with ice, stone is hewn by history's heft
His facade crumbled, tumbled downstill, where age takes us all
© inkcloud
Heart broken by time, each beaten tock a groan
Every ticked moment, another tragedy borne
Of others unknown but by compassion's light shown
And made weary, by their worldly woes forlorn
Tears flood, then bring drought, his visage stricken by pall
And in desert dry airs, a cliff by breeze is cleft
Scoured by wind, haunted by the ghost of the not yet dead's call
Foreseen by erosion of a once solid rock face, now bereft
As an old man once gazed somberly, only to fall
By crack's crick, and crag slick with ice, stone is hewn by history's heft
His facade crumbled, tumbled downstill, where age takes us all
© inkcloud
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