A youth in the crowd

In a society tinged with the rat race

Hands frailed with uncertainty reach out for reassurance

The air around the rats is swollen with their fearful tension

Masked by the outward appearance of their self-deceiving gestures

In daylight they do well to conceal their anxiety

As they peddle their wares with conspicous ardor

When nightfall approaches the rats retire to their beds

Plagued by  their translucent existence 

Hearts beating with a sporadic rhythm

They brace themselves throughout the night

In the still of night a youth approaches

Possessing a calm but cold expression

His heart beats in a vindictive rhythm

Who discards his fear to confront the root of apprehension

His mentality seems to defy his sense of mortality

Although he does intend on living

For he is one of the last of his kind

In a world where darkness is thriving

As he dares anyone to mock him in his midst

The youth ventures into the unknown abyss