By: Allan Douglas – Copyright 05/03/88
Who is he;
angel of salvation,
or angel of death?
He’s spent his whole life
as defender of the defenseless,
champion of the downtrodden,
crusader against injustice.
He is revered by his subjects.
They cheer when he rides by.
And yet, when he is alone,
separated and isolated by the walls of his room,
it is he who becomes the Dark Lord.
He is the demon from whom he has defended them for so long.
Each night the battle for supremacy rages on.
Each night the victor rises with a narrower margin.
He knows the night will come when there is no victor.
Each alter ego will quell the other
and he will cease to exist.
He will doubtless be acclaimed a martyr
for having met his doom
at the hands of some unnamed demon.
They will tell their tales, sing his praises,
and raise statues in his honor.
Yet they will never know the extent
of the evil that harbored among them.
Never know how many times
they looked into the face of death
and called it compassion.
* * * * *
A pretty, smiling face can often hide something very vile.