Blind Man Sitting On A Wayward Hill

Blind man sitting on a wayward hill,
can't find a way to be fulfilled.

He remembers a time long ago,
when he had faced many a foe.

He remembers his loved ones, his wife long past.
He's lived so long he is the last.

He dwells on the past, on memories.
Rejecting the world he cannot see.

Battles rage inside his head,
Filling his heart with hate and dread

Children they laugh, they play and sing
But to the past he always clings.

He's prayed for death, and waiting still....

A blind man sitting on a wayward hill.