How brief

"how brief how brief!"
the old man cried
"all die
all by the Styxian way
will cross"
(his eyes a mirrored madness)
with sadness did I touch
his hand
"sir do not rush your time,
stay and tell me of
your life"
"is yours not enough?" he laughed
but still I tried again
"please tell me of your
younger days"
then with a piercing gaze
he looked me in the eye
"will you add sorrow to despair?
but sit down in that chair and
hear of broken hearts,
parted ways, and
the love of Arabelle."
then I sitting heard his tale
which someday
I may share
but beware:
you may find yourself
in the story I heard there