Please, let him be soft. I know you made him    with gunmetal bones    and wolfâs teeth. I know you made him to be    a warrior    a soldier    a hero. But even gunmetal can warp and even wolfâs teeth can dull and I do not want to see him break the way old and worn and overused things do. I do not want to see him go up in flames    the way all heroes end up martyrs. I know that you will tell me that the world needs him. The world needs his heart    and his faith    and his courage    and his strength    and his bones and his teeth and his blood and his voice and hisâ The world needs anything he will give them. Damn the world,    and damn you too. Damn anyone that ever asked anything of him,    damn anyone that ever took anything from him,       damn anyone that ever prayed to his name. You know that he will give them everything    until there is nothing left of him       but the imprint of dust          where his feet once trod. You know that he will bear the world like Atlas    until his shoulders collapse       and his knees buckle          and he is crushed by all he used to carry. Dear God, you have already made an Atlas. You have already made an Achilles and an Icarus and a Hercules. You have already made a sacrificial lamb of your Son. You have already made so many heroes, and you can make another again. You can have your pick of heroes. So please, I beg youâ he is all that I have, and you have so many heroes and the world has so many more. Let him be soft, and let him be mine.
Please, let him be happy ( j.p. )












