The Solitaire

Backwards, I’m covering miles along
A war I’m battling alone
Against waves during a storm
Against golden oceans of grain
Between the blueballs and the sand
I’m arid and backhand
I feel impurest empty
Forlorn, sharpened tempty
Samaritan where I belong
I have been crowned grey inside
This night is neverending
Pitch black, hell descending
Gathering into the abyss
I am the enslaved solitaire
Midnight, the candle sputters slow
Illuminates my sins and sakes
As the winter leaves its wakes
Starwards, back to back with
My unconscious fear to face the truth
But tonight I’ll come for you
At first glance I’ll belong to you
At second hand you will taste my irrelevance
At last you will feel my solitude
And you will walk away…
I feel impurest empty
Forlorn, sharpened tempty
Samaritan where I belong
I have been crowned grey inside
This night is neverending
Pitch black, hell descending
Gathering into the abyss
I am the enslaved solitaire
The third is the sympathetic age
And then you will finally have fear
At last you will feel my solitude
And it will be too late…