Immortal's Lament

Immortal’s Lament By: Carolina Alvarez Oh how mournful the immortal is! The silver teardrop of the past Falls fast Falls thick, past the thin eyelash, Goes farther than his silent wish. How pitiful, his troubled state of mind: Painful memories remind Him ofInternal battles never fought; Things he tried to leave behind. How tragic, his saddened large blue eyes Tell stories of his life, Of a deep, personal loss. His mirthless smile never lies. How appropriate, the state of his attire, Careful neglect, as his desire To no longer walk the earth makes him cry. Who died? Torment is the name of his face As he looks down through The dark side of the glass; Wistful dreams embrace him once more, Wants not the isolation from things once cherished; O, no more! No more! His heart tears in agony Bleeds in pain Anger Disgust; Loathes his sorrow and his pain Over and over Again and again.

How horrifying, the sound of the immortal's heartbeat Pounds like drums Slowly Dripping drops of bloody tears While it slowly wallows in self-defeat. He's stuck in the times of wasteland eternity In the middle of a sea blood red. Never changing is he. Things grow old, things die And the cycle of life starts again. Oh how mournful the immortal is. The silver teardrop of his pain Falls again Falls swift, like the hundredth drop of rain. Goes farther than his heartbeat may, Over and over Falling away.