A man born of nothing
Likewise from everything.
Came from no where
Yet somewhere.
A man who clutches freewill
But has no voice.
He is of every hue
And whom his coitus is specific
And undefined.
He walked the earth by choice.
Conversed with whom he wished.
And lived how he saw fit.
However a calling came for some heroes of his clique.
And he was drawn or he volunteered.
Rough this path was to be
And rough it turned out.
As the path grew darker
The man grew darker.
He partook, inflicted, and observed such unimaginable cruelty. It could only be imagined.
The cruelty was real.
It made him feel so real.
So connected.
Primitive and so developed.
Until he found his breaking point.
Seeing something so terrible it was definitely real.
His eyes wore scars that only faded in the later years of his life.
But he would remember the scene to the exact detail forever.
The path got brighter. So did the man.
But the man was always not as gleeful as his surroundings.
He like so many of his fellow hero’s got stuck in the past sometimes.
Going back to when the path wasn’t so bright.
He lived the rest of his life in peace. Had a family. Fought for the right things with what voice he had.
One day he returned to the most horrific battlefield he once stood on as a soldier.
A man his age, but of the enemy’s looks gazed at him.
An unspoken barrier would always separate them.
But these two were as close and as far as brothers.
They shared a glance so deep only warriors could read it. Roughly translated it said, “All of that is done and gone with. I’ll love you for sharing my memories. I’ll hate your for the bad ones.” Then they went their ways and lived out their days in harmony with hatred and sadness.
Only men like them will ever really be truly human. Living on either side of the spectrum of good and evil for your entire life is fictional. Truth is only found in equilibrium. Humanity is only found in the duality of Devine beauty and incomprehensible darkness.