The Age Fades Away

The years go with him
the trees of yesterday
They are the oaks of today
wrinkled skin
his hair looks silver
and his steps are full of stories
that slept in his footsteps.

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He is silently losing himself
leaving in the wake
a silent farewell to dreams
that sinks in the sand
that blown with the breeze
tickles tired skin
bowed in a shadow
where hope
you have gone with him.

A scent of old time
the breeze touches your face
as a sign that shows the horizon
in the distance of him behind his shadow
that the afternoon breaks
of a night that is approaching
until we reach the sunset.