Grow Out and In With the Wind

In the end the warrior rejected me, and I rode away in silence, to the hum of the sunset.  It was but to this, I was given, as they that would have my coin would close in on me, to only find nothing, and for this they would have persecuted me, had I not been so lacking of fear that their munitions had no effect on me.

I pushed on, into the darkness, deeper than before I had traveled.  Deep within the recess of the interior self I lingered, waiting, until at some point, it would claim me completely.  With no one left to save me from myself, it was inevitable that I would become depraved and anti-social.

My hair is grey, it grows still, although my body wilts from age.  The soft tendrils of smoke that still rise from the chimney, are all the evidence that remains of my existence.  This is how it should be, alone and distant from humanity, as it should have been from the very beginning.

That is all I can give to you, my long time ago friend.