Deep sighning

A muffled laugh always sounds quietly and not with a guffaw on crying lips. One can no longer see the One-dreams. He has long since run out of credit, his keep, his dignity to earn money. Forgotten to deliberately fall from the outstretched orbs of career ladders - so now he grumbles and wonders to himself: where and where did he go wrong?! Now he merely winks a wink or two, he does not fuss unnecessarily, he eats his brush.

 Even in the midst of heaven-shaking perplexities he is stripped bare. In a storm of fist-fights, it's harder and harder to stay on your feet. Already his alarmist ominous predictions are countered by superiority. And he has yet to learn the taste of certain survival. Tossed between torture and pleasure, halfway through life is living instead, having long since been left in debt. In the twinkling of an eye he can, if need be, make his former promises null and void. For, as a wicked worldly rogue, a false giddy, he has long since sold his soul for ringing, false promises. 

Wherever he casts his curious, freckled eyes, From his deceivable emotions he can seldom, if ever, be free. He stumbles onward in a pit of head-shakes and nods, and prefers to lag behind, to retreat when fate prompts him to action. - The muffled, muffled sounds of the streets are soon to be heard over the pounding of his footsteps. Even now it seems as if he were guided by unselfish goodwill, and would bravely hold hands if he could, his chattering neighbours. He ought not to be daily ruthlessly broken, while others' lead-parts are also carried crumbling, stricken to the ground. In the nourishing veins of his grayed orbits he already feels a sudden passing. Sprained bone-ankles beat in rhythms on the expanding pavements of Time...