the threnody to a broken boy, masquerading his endless grief and sorrow behind the pleasantries of a kind smile and soft tone. a smile that slowly withers as time eats away at his mind. a tone that becomes more desperate, more unhinged, the more things slip from his grasp

the threnody to a broken boy, who time and time again comes face to face with the living representation of his failures. of his inability to change anything, to become anything more than a tool. of the simple truth that the endless, relentless march forward, meant nothing to the requiem composed of blood and iron

the threnody to a broken boy, come face to face with the evil of the entire world; concentrated into one singular being. the father who so despises him, the father he so despises, the mutual blood running through their veins alight in desperate fury

the threnody to a broken boy, lost so fiercely in that all consuming, abyss black rage and tempered grief he becomes nothing more than a feral beast. wanton bloodlust replacing the tattered remnants of a place that guilt and sorrow once called home

the threnody to a broken boy, the catalyst for the end of the world. one who wished nothing more than to destroy his own life if it meant even a single other could be saved. turned into nothing more than the trigger for the deaths of thousands. a justification for bloodshed, for inevitable conflict, for everything that would tear his soul asunder

a tale written in ink, as black as despair