The Mind of a space monkey

With the smile of a madman he walks through his days,
His name is Elvin, he likes to sit by the graves,
It tears him inside and his smile turns to dust,
It is the only time he puts down his mask.
He will praise and he will sing,
Long lost anthems of passed but passionate sin,
For sins they are to him,
Forbidden to speak or touch or obtain,
Because they hold no glory inside of them,
Just another rotten layer of the doomed,
That might be forgotten, If there weren’t these runes,
Now, he’s sitting there, again with his back to a toombdoor, a lair,
Thinking that just one day,
He will be exactly the same,
Motionless and disfigured and dead!
He will be silent then,
But right now, he is keeping on going further ahead,
With poetry and writings,
Which someday’ll be him,
The long lost anthems,
Which are doomed to remain,

For all that will have been within.