Him, and him alone.
Wandering the streets of long ago.
Stranded in this world which he calls home.
Everything regarded as a potential foe.
It is in this he sees no humanity.
Seeking friends on this lonely day.
Resisting against the pull of insanity.
Wondering if a star might guide his way.
The owls, they shriek at night.
The crows caw throughout the day.
He thinks, do they even feel fright?
What about the creatures they soullessly slay?
For he remembers, he has killed a man.
It was in self defence, he relentlessly insists.
From this, and his past, he ran;
To join the fight and enlist.
He saw no hope in those dear men.
Those that life tainted to the very core.
Should he remember this again and again?
Or wish that he, himself, was no more…