An Epiphany of Sorts

Harsh words do not hurt him, He's heard them all before
This path he's come to walk alone, Expecting his place in the world
Those things he leaves lying on the ground, They are but memories of a fool
There's something greater burning inside those brown-green eyes
A spark in the dead of night, A light when the world is shrouded in dusk
He keeps his greatest mysteries locked inside, For the ones he's shared are taken away
To know him is to question the little things, His complexity is unnerving, yet his motives plain
He cast away his former self, but a shell of a once ugly soul
He repent those things that made him a stranger, Gave up all that was already lost
The memories he's forced to keep, oh he keeps them well
The moments in time he would rather erase, are his markers of mortality
They keep him real, They keep him in the here and now, Lest he time-walk into the past
For there the water's deep, The pain of many yesterdays awaiting rebirth
So when  you see him, he smiles, He can hear the song in his heart
It's taken a lifetime for him to do so, Yet he knows he must carry on
The song inside must be shared with many, lest it go unheard by even himself
The gifts he's been given, he must give away, share them with a waiting world
Selfish desire leads down a path he would not follow, though he was once its slave
He springs forward into the open and begins to sing his song, He speaks of sweet redemption
All these years he walked, he did not know it so, Yet there are forests for the trees
All planted by the hand of God, For the dreamer and the ones that he must show