Mortal Man

He was tired of running, towards nothing
Tired of broken visions, not forthcoming
Tired of empty words of encouragement
He was alone and desolate, no home
But he blamed none is the path he chose
His eyes were dark cold, what glow?
He only understood the red glow
The fiery furnace that tormented the soul
Lucy, he was taught she to be the foe
But she spoke niceties that stirred the skull
Maybe he needed a hand to hold
Maybe he needed to quench the urge
Yes! The glock, the machete, to stir the purge
Clense his soul of all that’s dirt
Attain forgiveness, a sinful man
A whip of glory, his ambitious charm
Yet still a mortal, yet still a man
The mortal upheld immortal a facade
Yes, the dollar an incentive for living
In a mortal existence there’s no attaining without giving
So the soul on bargain, for a better beginning

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