Greed is a Fickle Thing

He can feel the pull of the feelings gone by,

The longing of recognition for the boy that lived,

The boy still doesn't truly understand just why,

Why he had to live as the ones he loved came to die,

An innocent desire can turn into a nightmare for demons,

That reside in his heart, turn him into a heathen,

He struggles and struggles to defy all the odds,

To exact his pound of flesh from the world, call it even,

The legends are lore, the burdens they bore,

Are things of fiction, turned into something to abhor,

As we trudge on in the rain, not seeing straight,

But he's just looking for the one to call mi amor,

It seems futile to do the right thing every time,

To be battered and broken just to see a stranger smile,

To worry about the future, trying to amend his past,

The boy lives on, and he knows he must live on for a while,

It's sad to imagine a world without the faithful disciples,

Of the lost art of love, he needs to understand and decipher,

What makes us human, keeps the monsters at bay,

What takes us from the stormy night, into a field of hay,

Grass grows longer, the heart grows fonder,

Beyond the age of chivalry, the humankind shall wander,

As punishment for our sins, we endure the unkind,

With hope for a bright future, somewhere in the yonder,

What needs to be told that hasn't already been said,

What must be brought back from the clutches of death,

What could be done, to liberate his scattered soul,

He searches endlessly, to once again be whole,