The man you are looking at
Is not for your eyes.
You have lost that privilege
Long ago.

You look at him with the same disgust that he knows that truly are.
You nothing now,
but a scar.
That man has made a vow.

A vow to leave the people like you behind.
He has become quite tired of being blind.
The anger he feels has one purpose,
It's meticulous.

He no longer misses you;
He's payed his due,
He will no longer live with people of your discourse.
Time is up, no remorse.