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.