A Man of The Past

A man of the past, a face in the window,

A replaying old film, a hymn in the class of killed does.

Distant a vision, a hope for what was once,

Now a bitter light is on the tip of the shrewd tongue.

Falling for a lie, the truth was in the eye,

Seeing what was real was a deal made for the man who would never lie.

So honesty is frozen and his soul cold on the glass,

A reflection of the past, He seeks a truth that will outlast.

A truth from you, the truth of your ruined clasp.