The Travails of a Loner

A loner in this town
Through the afternoon and well past sundown
Looks around for means of subsistence
And a dwelling with endless persistence

The day is akin to a hollow vessel
And night resembles a pitch-dark pit
These gloomy lonesome eyes
In lieu of tears, smoke omit
The motive to live none at all, however
With thoughts to perish as an excuse, wrestles.

Having never witnessed these longer than life
Roads reach their destination
They keep sprinting across
Not for a moment halting at any station
In this strange metropolis,
Seeks out a recognizable face to criss-cross