The Neophyte

Admiration propelled me through the years of toil Hoping to one day be led by his hand In my eyes he was a god among men Champion to the weak and struggling Vengeance on those who abuse Few rise above the others without bodies falling in their wake A dark path to ascendency This is a lesson hard-learned by someone restrained by morals I curse my naivety It is always a risk to consort with heroes To do so is to see their faults and lift the veneer of perfection Mortified by the savage behind the noble God revealed to be a man; a title hardly fitting He is, in truth, a step below the foulest form of vermin My shame can find no bounds viscous realization Did he see me as one in kind? Or as weak… to be corrupted? Heaving as I digest this vile revelation As if gate was opened, setting free a flood of agony But I will not allow myself to drown in this self-hatred Loathing set in now… ‘tis sin I’m contemplating I can’t unsee the misery The demon beneath the flesh If I am to protect the weak then I must lay thee to rest But who am I to start a war against a vengeful god? Shielded I’ve been within his enveloping shadow But like a thorn, I’ll find a way to cripple the lion Become the hero that my ignorance made him out to be Never again will I put trust in something so abhorrent My cynicism taking hold But I will be redeemed for misguided adoration My hostile hand will take control