The man walked smiling, purpose unknown,
Bonds he denied, claiming unworthy alone.
A lover wept, her tears like snow,
But still, he whispered, "I cannot grow."

People mocked, yet on he went,
Angel of humility, ever-present.
Wings of virtue weighed him down,
Day and night, in silence, he'd drown.

A child begged with trembling plea,
"Save my mother, please set her free."
The man reached out, but then withdrew,
As the angel whispered, "This is not for you."

A tear fell slow, and with a sigh,
He softly spoke, "Unworthy am I."
The child looked deep, both man and guide,
With stone in hand, no fear to hide.

She slit his throat, and blood ran red,
The angel smiled, the man near dead.
"Do not save yourself, preacher of humility,
Unworthy you are," the angel cried.

The man, at peace, let his hand fall,
Smiling at last, he’d answered the call.
Freed of his virtue, his burdens deep,
Worthy at last of eternal sleep.