A Stranger's Face

There I stood,
upon the middle steps,
upon the cusps of change,
upon this earthly stage.

What was has gone,
into the night,
all that's to be,
are dawned and nigh.

As I look,
into the mirrowed lake,
I saw a face,
that did'nt quite fit.

What I saw,
was a stranger's face,
that told me tales,
of a stranger's fate.

In his eyes,
a heavy sadness rest,
but in his heart,
the tears are all but dry.

In his soul,
a pool of lonesome fears,
but his dreams,
has long begun to die.

Upon his brows,
a wrinkled forehead lined,
his toughts and worries,
the burdens of his times.

Upon his face,
a downcast angled frown,
a man who's lost,
and hope will never find.

And then he spoke,
with words that grief designed,
"I am he,"
"Alas this fate is mine."

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