the hero

A Poem by alan khan

he's got no time for the evil in his own heart.

so he expelled it from his realms of power.

still though, locked away
deep with the chasms of his soul,

a terrible and engulfing black void
consumes at everything in him.

he hides this by hiding his face.

shamed by the pure hunger that infests his nobility.

he wraps his hardened body in
the night.

clothing his muscles scars and battle torn skin

with the ice chill of uncertainty.

all the while
in the midst of this confusion.

he is more than a complete being.

extending passed the rank of enlightenment.

no no he's something else entirely.

for a man is no man at all
(much less a hero)

if he isn't sure of the unshakable
and infinite energy he possess.

so make no mistake.

behind the gothic undertones,
and quiet reserve.

a being incapable
of imperfect behavior..

exists.