Let me tell you a story

Of a meticulous little brat

Who would often worry

Of the heavens at heart

Before long his mind dragged him

Down the dark hole of utmost deceit…

Wrong? Overconfident? Proud? And Reckless?

Spells were cast…

To drag him back to scene

Eventually, time succeeded…


He had been gone for way too long

His hands had become claws

His teethes had become fangs

His skin wore a tan unknown to man

It was verily too late

For he had long lost it all…

But I write this tale for his final moments…

As he was scorned

And forced to return

Beneath his grimace, his eyes gleamed

Not with tears but with pity

As if deep down in that hole

He had found a home…

Much much greater than all we know

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