Lonely Fool

The night is still young 
And full of breath.
Yet I'm asleep
And gasping for air.

This beckoning call
That calls not 
Must end.

I know not the face in the mirror
Hands of time doth changed me
Into the state you see me here.
Cry not for this pathetic soul.
For these lines in my face
Are the self portrait  
On a weary canvas.

Know only to follow not his path.
This the passage of a lonely fool.

Where now?