Habiliments of the grave

Hollow hollow hollow heart,
Years ago I dared to read the cards.
They prophesied your hermitage,
the shining light on the dark path,
beams illuminating the crevices and places unseen
where humans step and stumble.

Hermit hermit hermit heart,
Know that they will never heed your words.
They wish to fall for themselves,
they cry to you as they slip and tumble,
and your predictions incite their anger
when they inevitably come true.

Hollow hermit, your lips are sealed.
Your first breath gave way to a strangled sob of solitude,
and the illusion that stays alive for most
died as your childhood faded into premature senility.

Hold the lantern, hold it high,
you are merely a lamppost to passersby.
And those days that you see their smiles,
their jolly cheeks and pink abandon,
the fire you thought long gone glows,
those embers of doubt
how they haunt your hollow heart
until all the footprints are covered in snow.
Not a voice, not a breath.
Alone with the ice and cold,
Your hearth back to its status quo.

Hollow hollow hermit,
How long will your heart beat?