The solitaire

The solitaire
Backward, I'm covering miles along
A war I'm battling alone
Against waves during a storm
Against golden oceans of grain
Between the bluebells and the sand
I'm arid and backhand
I feel impurest empty
Forlorn, sharpened, tempted
samaritan where I belong
I have been crowned, grey inside

This night is never ending
Pitch black, hell descending
Gathering into the abyss
I am the enslaved solitaire
Midnight, the candle sputters slow
Illuminates my sins and sakes
As the winter leaves its wakes
Starward, back to back with
My unconscious fear to face the truth
But tonight I'll come for you
At first glance, I'll belong to you
At second hand, you will taste my irrelevance
At last, you will feel my solitude
And you will walk away
I feel impurest empty
The third sympathetic age
And then you will finally have fear
At last you will feel my solitude
And it will be too late