He was a man.
Short of love and drawn to strife,
And none to senses find.

He to sort and sell his life.

Early in his dawn.

Mostly man and more of tears,
Yet born without a heart.


Of what was thought?
Of others nought

With Emotions,
Never near!

For he was cold,
And never bold.
But fought  for he to try.

The valiance of a man to see.
And grapple with to be...

With ego, ether, earth and
Folly.
Unmeasured
and now free..

So he exact, and rectify
the the pain
they caused on he.
With shallow pause
And much of cause
To find them misery.

And lent his heart to
Hell.
To make all heaven see.
That it is both
The right and wrong.
That caused a pain to be.