Nostalgia

By the woods along the bank,

As the water gushed down,

He observed the sphynx sleds,

Pulling up the enormous casks of wine,

With one upon which he sat,

He took few sips,

Rejoicing the drink,

Dwelling on what made him who he is,

Lonely all alone by himself,

The laughter went backward,

As tears brimmed his once solid eyes.