A wholesome soul tattered at the seams
The fray within him silently conflicting the deepest core of his heart
Gashes crust over
Scars fade ivory and etch taunting reminiscence upon his flesh
Inside he still bleeds
Afflicted by wounds that even time can't heal
Abstaining the tears
He keeps his game face on
Screw destiny
All he has are the choices he makes
And yet he is entwined by a fate he does not desire
Engulfed by calamity in which he cannot prevail
He has one job that defines him – hunting things, saving people, the family business
This weight on his shoulders strains his posture
It could be simple
All he would have to do is walk away
But he cares too much
His love plagues him with passion that seeps through the spider cracks of his soul
It never really occurred to him that although he never had a roof and four walls
He was never in fact homeless
His vintage steel beauty cruises the dusty back roads of the country
His Achilles' heel rides shotgun
He ensconces the fuselage embedding his despair
He has no illusions
He knows the life he leads
He knows how it will end for him
But he's got a give 'em hell attitude that gets him through the day
His fortitude designates him a hero
This travail he shall overcome
This dauntless nomad carries on