Eulogy

[Pyxx]

Rustling thoughts inside his head,
like winters leaves that never rest:
He tells why, but all at their request.

He's watching from a stilted window,
as his world turns shades of grey.
He's standing in his pocket,
himself he's betrayed.

There's no end to this beginning,
the thought comes too late.
This is his to own,
to them he berates.

They never knew him they say,
despite what he said.
They speak into their reflections,
his promises always ended in regret.