A Man of Inner Death

...on this, I looked beyond the man's face, to the shadowed closed doors of his own depression.
His concealment of deathly desire, and the lack of life's ambition.
Through his face I saw death and all that was his eternity.
The abmismal afterlife, the fate of the hopeless mind.
He did not see me as he slowly swallowed his pride and on the inside died.
And gone is his will to survive, yet still he walks about gone from life.
Decaying, wasting away.
Only beyond his face, through the fleshy living core, do you see the dead, the dying of life once lived before.