A wondering spirit with innocent eyes,
Arrived in the city, bearing no disguise.
Seeing each smile as a beacon, each heart sincere,
He viewed the world without judgement and without any fear.

But soon time dissolved this idyllic facade;
Laughter rang hollow, fake smiles concealed fraud.
Behind the guise that promised “all is well,”
Lurked menacing teeth and the stench of hell.

Shadows writhed and took demon form,
With claws that dripped corruption’s storm.
Their tongues spat rot, their breath decay,
They fed on goodness, slaying their prey.

He faltered in alleys where hope’s flame grew pale,
Each truth a thorn, each revelation a gale.
The weight of the world fell upon him, heavy as stone,
Yet bright embers within proved he was never alone.

In the cradle of ideals that had turned to dust,
The dreamer vowed to rebuild virtue and trust.
For though the night howled with fangs bared wide,
Fires of hope still burned deep inside.

He marched through the mire where false idols fell,
A torch in the darkness where the wicked dwell.
The dreamer, now wiser, walked on—not in spite—
But through the abyss, to resurrect the light.