He was the villain
Not by way of the commonality of evil
But because he was capable
He could easily be the hero
The role of a martyr was well within his reach
He received the label because he chose to be neither of these
He’d walked, talked and worn the mask of both
The charade had played out, the mask worn thin
The options weren’t what they’d once seemed
He no longer cared about the labels, he just wanted to be
The once-proud lion purred and puttered to a resounding cry
He pulled off the mask and picked up the remnants of a life half-lived