The Ballad with lack of fear [Final draft]

The mountain sun made His skin brown,
His tender skin was forgotten once He entered the town.
The town was a small one full of life
surrounded by lovely green hills, seemed clear of strife.
The people in the town were too busy to see...
He who walked unnoticed by anyone but me.
Unnoticed as if He were a regular, no one to know.
He who by monstrous hands was pulled into a pub's glow.
Inviting myself in, I walked in to the perfect balance
of curiosity and malice.
Despite their intentions the pub heads were quite fair,
with this stranger their liquor they were eager to share.
'Bring him some bourbon!' one of them said.
No sooner had I blinked that bourbon He was being fed!
Dance! Dance! Till joy spills out of their eyes!
Laugh! Loud enough to drown out his sighs!
The joy that spilled was sure to become His addiction,
at that time that was only my prediction.
Soon...moon to moon in the town the whiskey bit His lips,
no work, no pay, just taking sips.
Pleasure and leisure left Him no time to rinse His hair.
Yes, the people of the town, they began to stare...
'He's a drunk! Don't cross His path night or day!
Don't dare look Him straight in the eye!' they'd say.
I was sure to mark down our meeting date,
busy as I was it'd be terrible to arrive late.
Without surprise, I lost track of time,
I managed to arrive at the bell's chime.
There He was, He'd had enough.
Idleness and vomit had been too rough.
Even in the darkness His tears did shine,
poor tired little creature, He was mine!
'Who are you? What do you need?'
"I've come to rid you of your harmful greed."
My face made it easy for Him to remember,
when we distinctly met that day in November,
When He fell like a broken Nightingale...
For wings made out of paper often fail...
When we met He took me in as a muse,
my presence let the rope around His desires loose.
When He fell- they cheered like a faithful team...
O buckets of pity! Of pity He had reams!
"A long day it is when shopping for a coffin,
we shall depart soon, fruit or muffin?"
'Plenty of things I hold dear,
yes, but you sir, you're no one to fear..."

[By A.G. about D.T.]