There was once a man who found a crow

A dejected creature full of scars and stories to dreadful to bear

Anyone that would behold the sight of this tortured entity

Would gasp in horror and go on to say how this poor soul was made this way 

That no one could change this fate

No one could help this torn spirit as all that had been done was done in part to fate

Yet this man took this crow with its broken wing and broken soul

He showered this creature full of darkness with love, warmth, and adoration

For this creature went through misery and never ceased to stop fighting

This care confused this crow for it had never been treated this way

Especially by one of its own kind

The man did not know the things that the crow did

Nor experience anything the crow had

And he did not fear as the crow had

He did not act as the bystanders had

He did not validate this creature's hurt

This man simply loved this disheartened creature

And never asked why