His eyes are hooded
                             the looks are dark
Horror fills the twisted thoughts
                             threat of violence in every move
he mumbles to himself
                             walking along alone, surrounded
by those he would save
                              if only they would let it happen
already hoarse the voice continues
                             a throaty whisper filled with angst
at how they treat each other
                             with such disregard
the pains they all seem to feel
                             hidden with false facade
he wants to help them
                             with words or thoughts or deeds
but all he knows is violence
                              it's all his life has been
no other option is clear to him
                              only to fight is known, and so
no-one looks beneath
                              the frightened grizzled face
the eyes pooled with lonely longing
                              a hero without a place
for his aspect does reflect the world
                              a true mirror to this earth
for within burns a soul that wants to help
                              and he does not know how
to extend a hand in graciousness
                               though the palm is much scarred
he cannot, for that lesson
                                was not taught to one as he is
So avoided he is
                                This noble soul
For we cannot look beneath.