Of Life That Never Showed Its Face

Begotten with regret
Born into the world
Of rust and decay
Renounced, unformed
Incapable to fight
Thrown to the tender mercies
Of wolves in sheep’s clothing
Under the grimace masks of virtue
Trampling upon the pure innocence
Raised in captivity
Among his own kind
Haggard for the mockery
Betrayed, discarded
With no will to fight
A dying old man
Filled with regret
And promises broken
Reduced, frustrated
With the foretaste of relief