Vibrant Soul, Iron Fist

They were supposed to love him
They were bastions of hate...
Struggling to carry the weight,
of a million eyes beating down...

Displeased with him and his life,
everyone disapproves...
Trying...clawing his way over walls,
he peeks over and sees the world...
People for what they really are,
they were right...

Sighing, he returns to his room, Huddled in a corner, breathes last,
and then he dies...

�ick

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