No one ever saw him. The man who ran.
No one even heard him. The one who sang.
He was alone in nothing,
while surrounded by everything
He was left without a feeling,
though he could still feel the bleeding
He was cast aside from Heaven, drifting into Satan's clan
He was the only word spoken, and yet somehow he ran
He fought for her, until she stopped fighting him
He sold his soul, watched the light grow dim
He left it unheard, the earth's symphony
He was swimming in fear, of blatant blasphemy
No one could tell him where he was
No one could tell him if it was just because
Horrid and horrified, going against the plan
Because we never saw him, the man who ran
Laid back, yet never lethargic
Unholy but somehow cathartic
Twisted and tied, the tears in his eyes
Pounding his chest, until he sighs
Living for love, loving till loss
Hoping for joy, and losing the toss
You only know the one who can
But who ever cared for the man who ran
And so he kept running, until all faded
And so he kept fighting, although he felt jaded
Yet somehow he reigned triumphant
Although some said it couldn't be done
And he remained a touch blatant
Because he knew he'd won
Angels will swoon, and try to hide the ban
But no one will ever speak
Of the heroic man who ran
