The Gray Man by The_Real_Idril_Luinwe
In an alley leans a twisted arch,
Where dusk gives dawn furtive glances,
And dreams are strangled at their birth,
By a bellrope noose jerking dead mens’ dances.
By this twisted arch stands a gray man,
His coat and cloak, gray like his hair,
With eyes of slate and face a shadow,
Twilight lurks in his gloomy stare.