When he fell.

He fell—not all at once, but slow, First a day, then weeks in woe. Months turned years, his will grew thin, A stranger lived beneath his skin.

Scars now cover what was whole, Pain has swallowed up his soul. Beaten, broken, lost in shame, He forgot his own damn name.

Right or wrong—who even cares? His mind is numb, his heart is bare. A beast that walks, a man no more, Jealous, raging, sick to the core.

Purpose gone, just dust and bone, Left to rot, to die alone. Memories fade, the best ones first, What’s left behind is only worse.

( ?? )