Prologue
He weeps on this particular night,
the night where he relives that terrible incident.
He stands feeble and injured and got into a fight,
one fight that was never an accident.

I can feel the death in the air,
just somewhere.
I can feel the woe in the wind,
it's like he lives in his own prison.

One who can create can also obliterate.
He who created is attempting to destroy.
I wonder what has gotten into him as he makes his move,
and what in the hell is he trying to prove?

By hurting his own, it is sickening.
I ponder on how this is even possible.
His life was led so misleading,
living in his steps would be impossible.

Now his life is tainted his hatred,
now his life is just shredded.
I work hard to keep him smile,
when he lives this life in a sweet denial.