What is asked of him he shall not achieve,
he finds exhaustion in his choice of pleasure.
Holding on to a past misinterpreted by those
with whom he wishes to share.
Egotistical self-righteous mistake,
Called upon by fools wishing him to shine false light.
He walks in still motion so predictable in his awkward craft,
frightened by dark wall shades.
Myths of fables accusations and labels, oh how they misconstrued.
Building a palace of gold in his escape, clotted by lies he sold.
Nothing to reap, nothing to share,
for the days of his works were never there.
As he sits in the sun in a room in the dark
he finds an answer in his callused heart.
If you wonder continue for you'll never know,
he hides in a shelter built by unknown.
Official as fabric unfolds, cling to his gift an innocent soul.
Let his light shine, it shall never grow old,
look inside if you dare for you to can be bold.