A hero who cries

Behind their laughter.

Countless battle-worn children

Deliriously stumbling through life.

Every drop of blood that has

Fallen from our veins

Gave us the power to

Hold on when the child

In our souls needed a break from being the

Jester, the one that needs to

Kid to feel like a kid, to keep on

Living.

Maybe this is too dark, a

Narrator who got a bit

Overzealous in his descriptions of the

People he sees every day, of the

Queens, Kings, and various monarchs whose

Reigns have fallen prey to the

Shadowy thoughts that lurk just beyond

The imagination, and just before the

Unknown crevices we avoid with

Vigilance.

Well, maybe that’s the case, just the

Xerotic bits of an artist’s brain trying to

Yield something that’s a bit less

Zany than what they’d usually want to write.