The depth of a man's heart,
His armor laid bare.
In his solace,
He finds himself there.

His mind, a singular device,
Washing over thoughts like tsunamis.
The shadows of his complexity,
Folding up like origami.

The strength of his presence,
The safety from alarms.
Flowing out like capillaries,
Ever grasping arms.

His truth was found in lies,
His heart was healed by wounds.
His defeat was found in victory,
And victories found each time he'd lose.

A...