Tentacles of Time

I've clawed the dusty earth, and found no buried treasure
Painted a smile, mutilated, and found an aching pleasure
Laughed with death, as red ebbed away
As darkness slept, a young old man cursing the day
Squinting at the blank wall, I painted a picture in my mind
A dark world unburied, an immaculate dead design
I've breathed in the insect laden perfume of night
And cursed all I've laid sight
Watching insects fight for light, I dreamed of soaring to the stars
A wounded escape, from drooling human eyes outside my bars
Nothing worthwhile, in this empty, dead age
I look to a beautiful past, and grimace with rage
Strangled by tentacles of time, stabbing my fingers as I write this line
I've stared into the face of a bored god, you know the feeling was mutual, but mostly mine