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Raven, the Wrestler - a poem

A disturbed soul

Tortured inside

Inner turmoil

Outgoing personality

To the world

But to himself



Completely miserable

Wanting to find himself

But lets out his anger

Lashing out

At friends

At foes


Of their internal

Of their external


He finds lackeys


Even more of those

That lack identity


Self confidence

And builds a nest

A flock

A posse

To follow him

To worship him

To go into battle for him

And yet

He doesn’t care

They do the grunt work

He does the bare minimum

He reaps all the benefits

He stands tall

Arms extended

Looking to be a martyr

His sins vindicated

His power is more

But inside

He is alone

He feels worthless

Undeserving of his success

In the end

It doesn’t matter at all

His windfalls


His misery

Is his home

Is his security blanket

Is his life

And he’ll never break it

Quoth the Raven


Jon Harder

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