The Rise of the Renegade

By Ez   

The Rise of the Renegade
By Ez

From the mist of the mountains one shall rise,
from the creatures of the cave his hope there lies.
From the miner's light, he will come to love,
rejected by all, except who is above.
With no location of hope he has no hometown
with no character he will never settle down.
Different from everyone he will always blend,
with no hope, nobody will lend.
Troubled is the trail he shall make,
taken from him the love of the lake.
His head filled with the sounds of air,
no hope or troubles, he won’t give a care.
His short past made green from the sky,
his hope shortens as the numbers go by.
His anger will be of the colors of the field,
the emptiness of hope is his only shield.
The sharpness of the rock he will befriend,
the grown field, it shall not amend.
The sweet tartness he will grow to like,
his longing for hope to him is a spike.
His hope for visibility will never appear,
lost at a young age the sun won't come here.
Covered in memories, he won’t be scattered,
with the coming of hope his love shall be tattered.
Trusted at a young age his love had a cost,
trader of the hope he became lost.
His love is of which he has made,
Behold, The Rise of the Renegade.

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