You can tell alot about a soul from how it bleeds...
More from the way it shares the distress...

A sullen saviour sees only duty,
He acts as no Hero to anyone...

I swore revenge on an old poor man today,
But not everyone agreed it should end this way...

A soul or two in my behest,
I try to conjure up the rest...

The moon's enthralling glare lashes out at my once...
Sincere to you, to your hunger and despair...

Yet another bystander watches me pass by their...
They tutt at the shattered glass in mine...

The smell of a rose cannot be as blossomed,
as the essence of a beggar man's word...

To be able to talk to a listening ear,
about my loneliness...

Mr Hangman
Today is not your day...

You laugh at me
Diminish what is me...

I hold my hand steady,
No-one would know of the nervousness within it...

Moths that fly inside my heart,
My used heart, so numb and cold...