Life alone is a desolate reign, feel no remorse, no fear, no pain. Dark lonely days and endless nights with no chance of living, or more pointless fights. "My reasons, pure and simple. A growing need with mouths to feed; to reap the seeds I'd sown and a place to call my own" Like a cynical silhouette dancing in the night sky. Waiting. Watching. Time to say goodbye. "HANG HIM!" the mob cries but is this price not too high? Hearts and minds have been closed for so long and they fear, now, to concede that they may be wrong. Sun kissed land and dry river bed, will I even be missed when I'm dead? No songs by the fireside for this weary gent, just a tear shed in pain to a solemn lament. Like a cynical silhouette dancing in the night sky. Waiting. Watching. Time to say goodbye. Blackness. Blackness all around. Deathly silence; not a sound. Then a piercing cry breaking bated breath. A murderous mob cheering a cruel heartless death. Like a cynical silhouette dancing in the night sky. The long wait is over with a tragic goodbye. * Written by Darren Scanlon, August 1984 Revised by Darren Scanlon, 3rd April 2015. ©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.