Lurking in the shadows I see a figure searching for something he’s lost and can’t find.

    It is best to leave him to his worthless commotion:

    his life broken; to help might break him more.

    Urged by darkness surrounding I turn away

    and try to leave the figure; a man hunting for a last ace in a lost hand.

    His yelling, distant and futile, reminded me

    of those who had foolishly tried to rebel against nature’s whims and were punished.

    And yet, my heart calling me to this fool, hoping-

that this man would succeed; his screams and wails paving the way

    to redemption, to rebellion, to true nature.

    Beside the screeches of the shadows I had once embraced, I hesitated,

The man emerged from his sorrow with eyes of fire.

    Under his broken exterior hummed a steel resolve

    of pain and defiance, his face the color of determination;

    nature itself was forced to listen to this trickster.

    I contemplated...

    then left this man: the last hope for a world ensnared in despair.