It was the circumstances that made him callous. He found solace in being alone, and the wounds hurt so much that he stopped hurting.
An empty pyre,
Melancholic fumes,
An ebbing fire,
As reality looms.
A wailing lad,
Unnerved and broken,
An aegis clad,
No tears bespoken.
An innocent scarred,
A callous youth,
A conscience charred -
Apathy’s the truth.
Hazy pictures,
A could’ve been,
Chants of scriptures,
For a lost kin.