Paradise?

The golden orb was sinking yonder,
Signaling the crest of another night, and a new life.

The narrow path wound its way,
Through the bushes, hills and plains.
Leading the believers, to its enigmatic destination.

Unmindful of the heartless elements,
Undaunted by the undulating terrain,
He lay on his back, in the dingy little ditch,
By the side of the brash little path.

It was layered with leaves, dull and decaying,
Maggots and insects fought for the filth,
That adorned the walls of the shallow home.

His clothes hung limp, flimsy and tattered,
Not serving any purpose than
Vainly trying to shield,
His essentials from the eyes, of the vulgar and the vain.

Battered by Nature, let down by man,
His torso lay still, responding to no impulse.

Nothing he had to call his own,
Expect the sadistic elixir that kept him alive.

Neither man nor beast even bothered to wander
Near the desolate den of neglect and ruin.

Then came the yellow moon from behind the mountains yonder,
To cast a faint glow on the smile that hovered,
On the lips of the contented slave of Father Time.