Storming paths lit by haunting moons,
Half-humans wander and wonder,
As they mumble curses so common but vulgar.
Casted into back alleys and shoved into shadows,
It seems as if a lonely being is such a malicious beast
In low valleys.
They fall into traps so deadly but predictable;
After being jostled upon, and the muddy footprints shine like scars,
They just wish for freedom, to sit with the stars.
It’s a pitfall you see--wishing for fame ends with
The spirit drowning in the sea.
Once known by all, they can’t turn back
To the days of not being seen.
Private time is scarce,
And blunders are published,
And second chances never come,
Just as greed is planted.
So look with all your might,
Squint into the dusty corners;
Find these invisible souls,
And try to forewarn them.