The Beginning of the end

 There's a hut at the edge of town , the doors are wicked ,old n dark brown 

The isolation rules the sun , the dark is on the run 

He is old nd weak just from a weak 

Spells upon the cursed land ,he is in need of some stranger's hand 

By far the efforts go in vain ,all the people are insane 

waiting for the sun to come through the creaky glass window ,he sit serenly with a barrel of rum 

He has seen 

He has seen things , wicked tormant things 

He knows the plans nd whatever stands and whatever shatters ,He knows them all

That is a desperate land

he is a lifeless man melancholic and sad joyous and mad 

he is a living dead 

He is a killer

killer of his dreams , the aspirations the fantasies he made the efforts were never paid 

He woke up , walked down the stairs with a bewildered head headed to the room 

The room of the dead

The roses upon bed fall like the rain from heavens

he stood there for a minute nd then he walked on down the hall

Chasing things 

miscible things in his head mingling creating chaos 

Approvals and contradictions run between the head , the heart n the mind 

the present him , the one left behind nd the coming forward 

standing tall nice but small

and than he said 

This is the end beautiful friend 

i'm the killer of "the mocking bird" (his mind) nd he said 

i'm here to set u free being the thing u will never follow me 

forget the desperate land

forget the stranger hand 

this is the beginning but this is also end 

perhaps this is the beginning of  beautiful yet messed up end ................