The Will to Be

His name doesn't stick to his image.
It is far too simple for the complexities at work.
To look at him is to see the face of an angel.
To see his thoughts is to come to terms with Lucifer himself.
Words out of his mouth are straight and narrow, leaving little room for argument.
Control isn't easy.
Hands grasp foreign skin and self-prescribed treatments.
Strangers would run, his eyes on fire.
Strange attractions help others to stay.
Enigma is a word that couldn't begin to describe.
Home-bred fear and instructions to kill.
Love mixed with hate and hate mixed with lies.
Holding on to invisible days to come.
One day it will end.
But the end is never certain.
His name doesn't stick to his image.
For he is not what he was born to be.
Human.