My promises drizzle down lame
Like angel tears on a cracked window pane.
I used to see myself as a lion with a flowing mane
But, these days I’m nothing except worn and tame.
No Pride I dare to call my own.
As aged as abandoned nostalgic streets
With not a house or a dream for keeps.
Let it be shadows and gray fields that I roam.
For I am an empty train on rotting tracks
Screeching torturously into a velvet curtained night.