AGE IS CRUEL
A ruptured, languish, piteous being,
Squishing and squishing behind the scene.
He can see the decay and the feet of clay,
He'll conceal behind confidence, he'll rise and slay.
He contracted himself into a feud of some kind,
And proclaimed the humanity unkind.
All he needed to do was raise the veil,
The feud was with his own self and the AGE was over the hill behind that veil.