Little did humanity know that
not from the filth of their realities
would arise their greatest enemy.
But from behind the golden pedestals
and their own houses he would emerge.
Without a warning or shadow of a doubt
he came like the dust upon your shelves,
the shadow behind your footsteps.
He grew amongst you.
Watching. Waiting.
Understanding more and more
that his hatred toward his fellow man
was true.
He smiled when needing to,
cried to look the part.
But in solace he planned his grand finale
and thought himself a god.
He grew to converse with the crowds.
Learned to sway the mass,
But attention was never what he sought
and the spotlight was his greatest enemy.
So he receded to be forgotten once more.
And with time the people forgot him.
If time heals it also blurs the past
Like a single root he took hold of society
once more.
His words poisoned the ears that drank them,
the world plunged into chaos, war.
He sat back still waiting, for war bored him,
he wanted more. He fled once again.
The world lay quiet, a silent city block.
Whispers, hushed and staggered
echoed the alleyways, the people knew not
where their foe would show next.
They had no face, no name, no man
to point their hatred toward.
But he was long gone.
Man in his paranoia pointed fingers as all men do.
From their golden pedestals,
the place where our greatest antagonist had spawned,
they sent hordes to find him.
They put many to death they thought bore his villainy,
in vain.
From the shadows he scoffed and laughed at the world.
His finale had come to fruition.
And our nameless villain sauntered away in content.
He accomplished all he wanted and with the fear,
though his name never known,
infamy kept his presence alive.
Immortal, fear infected the land.