Means Naught

I was walking down the sidewalk
When his eyes arrested my eyes and ears
And his soul shackled to mine…

My gait rotates to his homely bench
Across the onyx paved path
The decrepit hand stretches to me
Black is all I see…

In a whisper I hear only
His weathered, broken vocal chords
Churning out this picturesque song:

“Living for yourself
Is a waste, you see,
It amounts to nothing else.
Life is but a house of cards, you see.
All your work means naught
For the slightest breeze, you see,
Drops the weightless vanity to its knees:

Your diamonds will all brown
Your clubs will bring you down
Your hearts will shatter and cave
Your spades will dig your early grave.”

Was this man God or the Whore of Babylon?
Are his words a blessing or a curse?
Is he an existential genius?
Some sort of learned, thinking vagrant?

No matter his universal role
He’s become my transient teacher
However, black is all I see…

In a whisper I hear only
His weathered, broken vocal chords
Churning out this picturesque song:

“Living for yourself
Is a waste, you see,
It amounts to nothing else.
Life is but a house of cards, you see.
All your work means naught
For the slightest breeze, you see,
Drops the weightless vanity to its knees:

Your diamonds will all brown
Your clubs will bring you down
Your hearts will shatter and cave
Your spades will dig your early grave.”

The mantra quickly fades away
Replaced by sirens’ singing
Replaced by the patrons screaming…

I see red, the crimson overflowing
My soul spread o’er the pavement
He strides away un’erred
The words ringing in my ear

In a whisper I hear only
His weathered, broken vocal chords
Churning out this picturesque song:

“Living for yourself
Is a waste, you see,
It amounts to nothing else.
Life is but a house of cards, you see.
All your work means naught
For the slightest breeze, you see,
Drops the weightless vanity to its knees:

Your diamonds will all brown
Your clubs will bring you down
Your hearts will shatter and cave
Your spades will dig your early grave.”