He's back.
He sits alone
Eyes focused in a thoughtful
Glare. The world is standing.
He continues walking
And walk to where?
There's nowhere to
Walk to. All paths lead
To the same cycle which
Creates the Shadow that
Turns the world into
A statue.

He walked the streets of nothingness,
Hearing screams of obscenity and
Seeing those attempting to float
Away, destroyed by madness
Created by their neighbors.

He tried to blend,
To become indistinguishable
Among them; his demeanor
Preventing. It was not even
Possible for one with such enigmious
Qualities to mix with such a world.
He begins a southern journey
Down the street.
He felt no need to fight anymore.
Perhaps then he wouldn't sit,
Staring and thinking useless
Thoughts of why and what if.
Why not fall subjected to a
World that hatches more misery
Each day? It's so much easier
Not to think, not to reflect
On actions and just commit
Them, forgetting all consequences,
All prices, all morals, all standards.

He continued south, trying to look back,
To Look north, but it was too hard to
Turn around. Being separated
From everything because of
What you are is unbearable.
His walk went on, further and further
From where he came, watching the
Screaming, hysterical world
Slip deeper, farther from the Light.

He stops.
There's no where to go.
His bright eyes furrow in
Frustration as he realizes
He has lost.
They've won.

He looks around at the
World he towers over.
Everything everyone
Submissive to the misery and
Revolting destruction
Refuses to see.
He listens to what seems
Normal to them but makes
Him want to scream.
He has fought for as long as
He can remember but it's
Taken him nowhere. His
Red lips remain firmly shut.
They've won.
He stood looking toward the
Crowding south of the avenue
And finally turned to look toward
The north from which he came.
North was much less inhabited and
Its population grew fewer every hour.

He closed his eyes in
Fear of the realization.
They've won.
He's trapped.


I watch him with
Tears in my eyes as
He's alone, feeling as if
There is no longer any
Familiarity in the north;
All he held was either
Decaying or dead.
He will never know that
I stood here, waiting for him
While he waited for me.