The shackled man

Beware the shackled man. He moans. He groans. He hobbles forward looking for those who wronged him.

Beware the shackled man. He searches evermore for those few who saw his pain and looked away. He searches for the ones he once knew before he grew.

Beware the shackled man. He whispers in the night, calling for those who possess the fight. The fight that has taken over his soul in it’s blight. The blight ruins everything… but never his fight. Never his might. Never his right.

Beware the shackled man. He walks in chains that bind him to this plain. The plain of the right and his pain is a fright. The fright will be a small blister one day, but on another, it’ll be this as he sees it’s the only way. The only way that he may escape one day. May escape one way. May escape where he lay.

Beware the shackled man they say. But the shackled man be alive in me today. The shackled man will come out to play. And that shackled man will be here to stay.