I see the tracks of evaporated tears dried upon the very crevasses of their wrinkles. Upon the valleys of their aged faces, their smiles are convincing although fabricated. Yet their eyes tell a story of sorrow for those who can see past their wilting surfaces, there lays the secret to what provokes their rapid aging. Decades of abandonment and neglect haunt the very depths of their minds. Forced into personal imprisonment of earthly purgatory, these are the longing rare souls that travel alone and soulfully desolate. They bodies seem newly born and modern, yet their souls are decrepit and bitter. Their entire lives have been like a desert never bearing water, just death and decay.