Masked Survival

He doesn't ask
questions.
He passively assumes
(without fully understanding
that there might be an alternate
a choice)
that safety blends in crowds.
He fears blindness
and so will become blind.
His each step follows
his past routes,
leading him to
where the task and troubles
are overwhelmingly his own.
Yet he soldiers on
as if it's
unavoidable
and delayable only
until that last lengthened second
when his silence
(along with his safe hiding spot,
his wariness,
and his every preparation
for staying alive)
shrugs its shoulders at him
in the same nonchalant way
that he copied
(what he bitterly does best)
and says to him,
"It wasn't enough."

This one actually has a dedication. On fanfiction, there's a fic called "House of Leaves" by Honeyblood. Go find it now. She's got a line in there that runs, "He thinks: I must be quiet, the way some people think, I must breathe." I attempted to write a poem on such a beautiful sad note, but I think I failed. It went almost completely off topic, besides not reaching the emotion. Anyway, so in theory this is fan-poetry, but it makes sense for real life. Anyone familar to the anime Naruto, the allusion is the character Hatake Kakashi...and ninjas. But if you didn't get ninjas, don't feel bad...