So, my time is near it's end,
The days of future now have come
Arrayed in its callous disregard.
Neglect has reduced me to exposed
and ruined timbers.
Life's storms have sheared
my skin off-
The facade is gone-
The emptiness of ruin
Exposed for all the uncaring
Once a treasure house of varied blessings,
But Time has only selfishly taken
never offering restoration.
Even with the advent of the decay,
Still, Time greedily used me
Until I could offer no more
And then cheaply cast me aside
Along 88, above the Little Barren,
I collapse in the neglect of
But, but one has stopped
And enquired of me,
And I feel the flickering warmth
Of Hope one final time.