Yet his tears were light and settle they sudden became heavy and frightened.

But not to fall, but to fly far away from sight and mind.

Though they are of pain, they have been drench in fear.

Yet another ugly picture unfolds, he still can’t forget their faces.

 

He awakes from screams, but not of his own, but of his victims.

Confused by his own actions, yet they were not of his control,

and yet he still holds them dear because he can't seem to let them go.

He is forever not forgiving and not forgetting of his actions.

These orders were of insanity, yet he still took up arms.

 

They were driven from afar, yet fell deep in his womb.

Though he is not a wolf and can't use his tools,

which must mean he can't lick his wounds.

So does that make him a fool,

and yet he still seeks forgiveness in his absence;

because his great nation was built on false truth and deception.

Now all his good deeds have left from his thoughts.

He now feels that he has failed his country

because of the death that sets in front of thee.

 

He takes the last breath of many, yet they haven't seen much of life yet.

Though his king wishes for their demise, but that's not what brothers him the most.

He's disgusted by not even asking why must they die.

He's thinking now is he still too proud or

loyal to define his questions with an answer.

Then he must not be adolescence because fact and

fiction is still left battling in his addiction for an answer for his questions.