Born of a noble,

Peasant by choice,

[choices; string after

String of choices]

Fleeing a heritage

Fearing a legacy

Of a father's, father's

Father's, father's father's

Seedy ill-repute

Adorned in tailored suit,

Trained in the affairs of

Men with a name

Shedding a skin,

But becoming paper thin

Transparent and fragile,

Being torn again and again

Packing a bag by moonlight,

Lost in a crowd of faces,

Melt and unexist

Running through the courtyard

Past guard and iron gate

Towards farms and fields

Down a path less cluttered

Than those still inside,

Bury deep the things you've known

Reinvent with sheep's clothes,

But the spawn of wolves

Cannot help but be a wolf.

Camouflage and try to hide,

But they will always see through

To the inside.

So from peasant to leper,

It's not a far ride,

Far from the city

Wandering about,

Untrimming a beard

Unwashing a body

Soaked in flies and melancholy

Rattling mind, numb flesh

Crooking spine

Scorching sun; trust no one

Once kind heart,

Abandoned in despair.