I own nothing,

but a rhyme or two.

I don't earn money,

I write for myself

and, dear reader,

You.

though broken

and with nothing

in life,

he still stood there

with nothing

but a memory,

ready to fight.

the liar

to the leaders

who were nothing

but decievers.

tha pariah

in the youth,

hiding since then.

it's the bitter truth

the teacher

of the children

who never understood him.

the martyr

of his own dark past

and memories that will last

the hater

with a loving heart.

the hero.

bitter, but smart.

the destroyer

of what he loved.

always loyal,

even to the dead

but looked at

like a traitor,

a murder

and a liar.

he decieved them all

to save them,

never letting them fall,

helping until the end

only after he died

was it revealed

whose side

he was really on.

he died

for the cause,

for the love,

for the peace,

he endured it all

for her.