The boy with an old age

His feet are a map of the ancient,
He has seen the earth cry in colors of
Red and blood,blood and red.
His swollen anckles and bruised knees
Tell a tale of time never loving him twice.
He has takens leaps from waterfall heights,
Only to land in streams filled with deadly grins.

The boy with the old age,hereof, he lies with
Oxygen filling his erupting lungs, if he wasn't
Suffocating, he wouldn't inhale so much.
From his breath you can hear chants of the old,
Tired wisdom he hopes can save the latter ones.

His eyes have lost the gaze of wonder, he sees
The world in darkness, a rotating ball hanged on
Nothing, what is left for us dears to hold on to?

The boy with an old are lives to someday be young.