dusk turned into darkness which faded into dawn.
dawn becomes morning, daytime,
by the time it starts to form.
and so from very little steps
comes leaps and bounds above the rest.
for it's the quiet one that has the most to hide,
nothing he gives away,
except his fear of being caught red handed.
where can he go to next?
what wouldn't bore him,
would give him the freedom he always craved, and got,
and when and how would/could/should this happen.
he was exhausted.
worn down,
only the smallest ambition was left in him.
his once steel balls
were not responding to their situation...
or maybe they were.
he was left solo, alone, abandoned by the very ones who once
raised him to glory,
stood beside and behind him,
pushed and created the monster that dies to young.
it was about to get a Hollywood ending,
as the monster somehow survived,
morphed into something new,
and became the extreme ruler of the world.
it could happen.
it could.
now, to just get it started...
were the people he once surrounded by just waiting in anticipation to see him fall?
or, were they anxious to see how far and high he would soar this time?
time would tell.
one way or another,
he knew he, in the end, may not ever be happy again.
and for a second,
he almost cried.
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