BLACK AND WHITE
By: Greg Horseman
Tags: Good And Evil, Morality, Prose, Creative Writing, Superheroes

BLACK AND WHITE

I arise from my bed, after sleeping through the early dawn,



With a bruised feeling.



Waking up, only to see the squalor and poverty of this city, once a utopia, not anymore.







I move around, and my self I make clean.



Time to deliver the message of repentance to the people in the streets.







I grab my coat, and my board,



I ruffle my hair.



Into my grimy, and dirt caked mirror, I stand and stare







I step out of my quarters, it’s a beautiful and sunny day



A day best suited to bring people back to the fold.



That they’ll ever see the light, I highly doubt



For the modern world has all, but turned its collective heart away, from the lord in heaven above.







Into the streets I go, only to be met with stares



Some disgusted, some annoyed, some filled to the brim with hate.



Upon me they spit, they punch, they yell obscenities and hurl insults



Farther away from the truth, their souls run







This goes on for a while, until I stop at a stand



To check the news, to see if there’s still any good left in man.



Every single day, the hour of judgement looms near



The clock, ever so closely approaching midnight.



Accept salvation, however they do not



All they want to do is fight



Why they do this, I cannot understand,



All the blood and violence in the streets.



Bodies piling up in hordes, by the minute



Without anyone to deliver a final rite, to send their souls to the Lord, in his embrace to keep.







But the sun is finally beginning to set



And night is falling on this seedy city



The underbelly of which, is with cockroaches and termites teeming.







At last I can ditch this charade



This façade that I maintain.



Return to my room with bated breath, I do



For it is time to be the real me.







From its enclosure, my real “face” I take



Settling in it, a perfect synchronisation to make.



I am now whole, fully complete



Ditched the masquerade I have, the optimistic child still residing deep within me.







In my true skin I finally step out



And take a fresh breath of air.



Draw first blood I have to



To fight the war on crime, the war on despair.







This city has seen my true face



My true identity



For the streets are only but gutters extended



That overflow with the scab from beneath.







On my way I see



The drug riddled rejects of society



The leftovers people dumped out long ago



And forgot to clean.







Interfere I do not, for I have other places to be



For war is coming, faster than it would normally seem.



Billions will die, some by their own hand



The rest, by whatever plagues the land.



Does one death really matter?



When the apocalypse is at hand?







Matter it does, for there is good, and there is evil



And punished, evil must be.



The world in two colours



Only black and white, I see.







But there is too much retribution to be dealt out



And not too much time



I’m all but a single warrior



Fighting for god’s holy plan.







Why do children even kill each other?



Why do we act like we don’t care?



The world, in the hands of fat, slobby blobs of people



Who misogynise, sexually assault and rape.







For this I was born, to do this I was destined.



To be the holy scourge, the flood of righteous might that ends all injustice.



For I am the Spectre, the very personification of God`s holy rage



I am the scythe, that will trim the weeds off the fields of this earth clean.







Believe in what I do, or hate me for my guts



For continue I will, until my last breath has gone.



Because good needs to survive



In order for this planet, once beautiful, to again thrive.