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The Dreary Faceless

He watches the rain that falls unwitting Of the people who shall scatter before it. And he sees the people who treat their minds To whatever may repose it. For he's met all kinds of shady folk And the ones that live in kind. He's seen the ails and woes of men And seen the same men shine. But he sees himself within their place And he hopes his hopes benign. For at this time he sees his place As one he shall not resign. For there is no pure or divine Amongst our giant shuffle. There is just intent and wants to vent And wickedness sublime. And so he hops from next to next, Any distance short or far. And sees the men who walk or rest And those who cower before their mar. But no image enough, he has found To rest his weary self. And so he'll walk and watch and search For a nook to base himself.

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