The Old Man Parts 1&2
By: Charles Aldux
11/1/2021

The Old Man Part 1

The old man sitting across from me in his chair.
Gave me a look, a sort of a glare.
Doped up, so I could not move.
I was creeped out by his vacant stare.
That's it, I thought, I always lose.
Under the spell of the drug, I was.

There were etchings of things unseen on the walls.
Things that have claws and fangs.
But also crawl.
The man held his arm and began to gnaw.
I wondered how long he had been here.
But the cursed things that this man saw.
Tripped up his psyche.
Then I looked at his hands and I saw even more than a claw.
Talons, with a silver glare.
And his teeth razor sharp as ever.
And I wondered if I'd ever be able to wake up from this uneasing tremor.
For being under the spell of the drug I could only use my eyes.
I feared that the man who transformed into the things unseen, would somehow come close to me.
And begin to crawl over, leaving my limbs severed.
But that never happened.

Some days I question my mental health.
I live in this house.
With no one other than myself.
There is no man there, for I am that man.
That is the creature inside.
Drugged I am.
For he taunts me with his unearthly appearance.
I cannot move my body.
For I have a lack of forbearance.
To claw out of the prison I am in.
With the man inside who stared an evil stare.
As I wait for the man across to do his dared, worst.
I wish to be rid of its curse.
When the drug I am under wears off.
The man disappears tersely.
And I am alone in my house.
And I etch those sketches and pin them to the wall.
To try and ward off those feelings inside.
To keep the old man out.
The man whose claws and malignant gaze.
Is one that scares me even to this day.
Causing even the bravest man to shout.
And as I get older, I know my hair will grey.
But in this house, I will stay.
But I hope that when I become fully old.
And I sit in that chair I will not see.
The younger me.
Scared of what I have become.
The creature I've let myself become obsessed with.
The etchings on the walls are what I saw when I saw him.
The house lit by candles.
But mostly the light is dim.
I wish to escape this prison that I am in.
But the man I may become.
Is the future that I despise.
And that comes to no surprise.

I hate this man.
I wish to run from.
This destiny I created.
But I feel I will never be sated.
But the man with the claws.
Who constantly plucks the strings of my life.
And is the meaning for my constant strife.
He takes away all of life's light.
Things appear despite.
And he controls me like a kite.
And does what he likes.
As I sleep, I cannot dream.
For the man whispers things in my ear.
Tells me things that make me feel contrite.
And when I awake, I feel that all I can do is scream.

The Old Man Part 2

You are the one.
The one I run from.
The tiresome visions I have of the older man.
That I have detailed once before.
Leave in my mind the moments that are grim and grum.
And I continue to walk the horizon of the rising sun.
With that morose man who I see, every time I close my eyes.
Whether it's a cool breeze or it doesn't rise due to the end of our sun.
The planet will degrade.
But the light in my eyes will still shine.
I will stare ahead hoping to prevent the man from looking back at my hair that's black.
Everywhere I can see calamity.
I'm just begging to be set free.
But I know I've nary a chance with serenity.
Before I see the end of time and space.
My eyes will close.
And I'll open up to be known as the creature that disrupts the events of serendipity.
The man that taunts and haunts.
All coming from his alibi.
For I am that guy.
The man afraid of the future.
Not worried about the past.
But what he would become.
Where his emotional wounds would be unattended without sutures.
The man who sits in a chair.
That sits with slits of fire.
But just thinking of this man makes me wish to retire.
Chasing the man who chases me.
He finds me at times day to day.
Where I hide, he finds me.
Where he hides, I find him.
There's no reason to begin to delay.
I know that I'll become the decay.
The animal that is inside will stray.
And if I don't obey the arrival.
The man inside will become me, my own rival.
I have no fair trial.
I will become the creature with the fangs.
It is surely a hard thing to think about as one day, if or whoever I'll walk down the aisle.
Will experience the old man inside.
The fangs and scowl that are constantly on the prowl.

There are days where I wish I could've cried.
But there's also days I wish I could've died.
To keep the malicious man that in me resides.
And idiotic decisions that I admit coincides.
Blue bonnets are pretty.
But he gives the blank stare of an owl.
No matter if I'm in the country or the city.
I can hear his calling as he begs for the cull.
I've nary any control.
That will improve my dilapidating soul.

Once all comes to the end.
My sincere hello.
Will convert to a malignant bellow.
As the man who I wish to never become,
Will notice that forever I cannot run.
And his gaze with that open-mouthed talonous toothed mandible.
Instills fear for what reason is incomprehensible.
Through the lake of darkness, I've waded.
I've realized that the man cannot be sated.
He speaks to me as if conversated.
The man taunts me, and its words are double-bladed.

Through the dark horizon I walk.
And through the dark colors I see the old man.
Who walks towards me.
And I pass out.
While of the things that I know have faded.
When I awake even all color has fladed.
And the man who has taken my place has taken all and desecrated.
The old man who waits for me.
Until the moment where I'll be biodegraded.