High above, sitting on his ledge, to himself he is to think. I am neither nor am I heard. I am as ghost. I try and I try, oh how hard I do try, but I must, I mustn’t cry, but now instead his hazel eyes grow moist. A heavy line and scarred face is stained by years.

Such a said faith for this one of light, personally known for the slayings of both the serpent and a dragon, should have never become one of the fallen.

Children need never suffer, but pain is so much a part of this child’s life. Pain, his unwanted friend, in a sense his religion, and in death he hopes they will part.

A body that has long been broken, as he is to lay, his body he has now split open. The blade is then tossed away as an unwanted token. Blood flows now, as the darkest of wines from a child who did nothing but shine.

Sleep he must, ashes to ashes. Drifting off he prays to his Gods and Angels to take him to a special time and place he once knew of long ago. Dusk to dusk, in this sleep he must trust.

My a rose hear of his name, the fruit has fallen from the vine, for it has been said, that of which has been lost may never be saved!

Eyes closed, in his sleep, he is to speak a name, and that name is Payne. True the shadow would, cut off the mist one has come. The figure approaching is that of a female, a beautiful female in fact. A sprit of an angel has arrived, the angel known as Payne, and she has come to get by her loved one’s side. For here was a very special love between these two children. Upon her passing from the physical to the next, from the next she had become his guardian angel.