it ends with people frowning furrows
in bundles of human sorrow and lost ambition
he reaps their broken souls, his daily tradition
they try to break free and climb high
he pulls them down back into the night
they scratch and fight, lose their lives
he breathes their death, collects their cry
till when he is tired and desires cravings new
he leaves the willing, lets go a luck few
they scramble away and reach for day
in the comfort of their lives to the lowly they wave
they forget the seeker, his dark death nest
they live in their day in happiness and rest
but the seeker doesn't forget or let anyone go
he makes them fall harder, much nasty reserved blows
the seeker now stalks them waiting for the shadows
they flirt with the fine line and tip into his claws
he drags them down into the narrow pit of origin
they stare at the day the faint light vanishing
is it better then to live in the shadows and live in fright
or that moment of freedom, short lived still excites
but to each his answer in time will be shown
if only the seeker of his works tired will grow
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