Heir of the Reprobate Mind

Shallow torches light a withered path,

Cobblestone roads mourn their abandonment,

Slender bare trees lean in to feel their warmth,

Pondering ever so heavily on what thy hath,

Thy hath eluded death and purgatory,

Your step hath now become silent,

Blending in with the oblivious sounds,

With the screams of thy past,

Thy past is entwined with sorrow.

Heir of the reprobate mind,

Never feeling remorse,

Nothing, never, no morrow

Thy morrow hath withered away,

It wanders with no sanctuary,

Thine sole lingers in a void,

Nowhere to stay,

To stay is a meaningless proposition,

It rives at thine very existence,

Which has fallen meagerly from eminence of life,

And rather a reprehensible truth,

Thine truths are desolate vindications,

As to why thy sole is here,

Futilely anticipating another chance,

The eternally dispassionate reprobate mind.