Earnest.

The steam rises off the coffee

In the mug on the chair

The man sits there in a trance

As his life is played

And his silver hair falls

He remembers the smell of the snow

And the shades of the leaves

How the grass shimmered in the morning

And how he believed

Reminiscing of a life he once lived

In a world torn apart

And his small part

In the game of giants

The lives he took

To secure the favor of the giant

But yet

He saw the good in mankind

And still

Fought on

He now rests in his chair

Beyond his four walls

Lay the land he defended

The grass began to shrivel

And the snow became mud

The leaves had gone long ago

As his eyes shut

And his soul left

For the great mother

He wept