He’d been feeding off scraps
Of disguised hate for so long -
Garnished by his own flavors of hope,
For this one, he put all his faith in -
That he lost feel of what was real;
Real love, care, real happiness.
Break away, he must;
To flee from the circle of antagonism
For in his reflection, he could see
Unmasked hate that mirrored all the love forgone
But let this be said, he breaks
Not for his story, though -
Not one of those tales where
Innocence is crushed,
And martyred for pompous self-interest;
But to keep alive the kind faith
And the hope –
That good begets good.
It will.
It will.
