Alone into the cold impervious,
These shadows play behind my flitting eyes.
A demon dressed as man. A cruel disguise.
Automaton, spurred on by fear and lust.
Between two states of being is the cusp
And when one man is born, another dies.
With knuckles bloodied, I will improvise,
Where proud frustration mingles with disgust.
There may be no return from this dark state –
The earth behind me salted, barley burned.
Each stolen moment lived with brimming hate.
Respect taken by force but never earned.
I fear I may have further yet to fall.
Can I be trusted? Will I heed the call?