Sta.sh
Wrapped up in the shell
Of himself, he stares
Out the broken window
Pain, observing all the
People as they walk on by.
Each and every one of them
Too afraid to give him much
More than a fleating glimpse.
For he was an undersireable,
In mitigating circumstances out of
Reach of himself. And any who
Would dare to hear of his story.
A hellion, solicitor, Murderer.
Atheistic lover of the god in himself
Daring to go against the laws
Of tradition. Customs and societal sense.
With a broken body, with eyes
That are alive burning fervent
With a desire to live the life,
Which they've stolen from him
They; naysayers, pharisees,
Hyprocrites. Who'd rather shoot
The one that flew much too
High above the rest, and watch him fall
Sinking to the earth in despair
Than to have him above their heads.
Reminding them that he had more,
Of something they couldn't tell.
Just that he had more than them.
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