Just a minimum wage delinquent,
With a broken spine,
A feeble clone of a super hero,
Bloating itself on blood at half-time.
Who feeds on the half-hearted prey and on the painless casualty,
Needing no sympathy and feeling empty in the darkfall,
Numb, lost and mute,
Watching the Heaven-Sent doll sit there awkwardly watching with its glass eyes.