A dark figure is sitting among them,
getting laughed at and humiliated.
Rugged clothes hide deformed figure,
which has no place among the fine.
Young and cheerful students laugh,
while the dark forgotten sobs,
alone in the corner and at the desk.
There is no place among them.
Stone walls protect unpolished gem.
Cracked, old and unkept. Hated…
Young students try to tear and disfigure
time. Stones are sewed with twine
by the one hiding behind. Hope lies in half!
The dark figure is trying to run, but all odds
are against the rugged one. Their grotesque
laughs echo, while fingers uncover the numb.
This is the fate of the Outsider.
Fighting alone, among young titans.
Not finding the place, where one
belongs. Only to roam towards blurry
goals of old long forgotten dreams.
And then, hope leaves the vagabond in bars.
Fine peers laugh behind one’s back,
for stumbling that they often also suffer with.
Humiliated and broken, the Strider
gallops away in the darkness. Frightens
before the vailing caverns, may none
follow. May none return. Bloody flurry
disturbs the night. Crimson streams
twinkle in the dancing light of the stars.
Slowly disappearing in the crack
that leads down into the abyss herewith.