Coming to terms.

Years passes and old age,
though I’ve heard all the tales
and seen with my own eyes many who suffer from it
still comes as a surprise, a joke in bad taste
something I cannot quite believe is slowly happening to me
snuffing my hopes out one by one like candles
as years after years, deeper lines festoon the skin at the corner of my eyes
a disease that spread mercilessly whether my dreams ever came true or not
while my body and flames that once burnt strong and bright waste away slowly,
for sometimes nothing can fool that which is the greatest truth
anyone’s ultimate solitude
and slowly aggravating state of putrefaction.