Departure number 3:
__I wandered off into another [more wordy] realm; friends, I hope you like this glut of words, sincerly, _m
I had been there many times before,
And shrank in the clash of it all;
Breathing in the smells and sights...
Of this cavern, this grimy hall.
The stench of countless, rushing trains,
Burned rubber and electric sweat;
Pulsing through this living cell...
In foulest, dust beset.
Above the grinding , toneless clatter,
A lowley voice was heard;
Cutting through the screeching din...
Saying but, a single word.
"Repent." did cough and blubber through,
His spirit sodden lips;
A broken, beaten, filthy beast...
That spat through lathered drips.
"Repent," he wheezed, and again that word,
Echoed within this oily hall;
And every step he took my way...
Spurred my memory's crawl.
"Repent," he neighed as he reached my stand,
Whiskey bleeding from each eye;
He caught my gaze, then hid his face...
And spewed his crippled sigh.
"Repent," he mumbled, then spilled away,
Wretched, reeking and worn;
Sliding off in greasy steps...
He vanished in his scorn.
Stunned, I followed those sodden eyes,
For what was there was known;
And I listened for his single word...
"Repent," this drunkard's droan.
I searched and scratched through noise and filth,
To find his wasted soul;
I rummaged every crack and den...
And every wretched hole.
I found my kin, in that muck and lice,
Curled in his fetal ball;
And I prayed he seemed again to me...
As he did when, I was small.
He waved me off, and spat out words,
Preaching, I was in err;
That I should turn, and step away...
And leave him to his lair.
"Not a brother," he said, was he to me,
Don't sorrow for my fall;
Go you back, to your life of ease...
I'm no brother, after all.
Go quickly to your wife and young,
And leave me to my cave;
A rotting soul I am, you've seen...
Just searching for my grave."
Against my will, I honored his,
Stealing courage, I stepped my length;
And I heard his anxious and whispered plea...
"Brother, please leave with me your strength."
I've returned, uncountable times,
To this subway's sour gloom;
To search for he, within his beast...
Before he found his tomb.
But not the word, nor the sight I'd see,
Within this cavern's sore;
Of brother, or beast, or broken man...
That drunkard's soul once more.
Then one day, in horror's grasp. "Repent,"
I heard, as I spun about;
To the light of my brother's eyes...
This beast he had cast out!
"When last we met," his shining words,
"You gave as I did plea;
You took your leave, but left your strength...
And with it, I burst free.
This was my grave, this subway vault,
And hope in your leaving fell;
To the strength you left as you stepped away...
Your faith has fought my spell.
I pass your faith in fearless fight,
To my brothers barrowed near;
That they may broach their hollow hell...
And slay the beasts they fear!"
When I return to this evil place,
To search within its reek;
I listen for his single word, his hymn...
Is the sound I seek.
"Repent," burns through that mortal clamor,
And with this messaged call;
My brother is again to me...
The Hero, when I was small.