My Champion, my protector, my archon 8/23/16
He was a soft voice in the darkness, a man with a sweet smile.
He told me stories and made me laugh.
He held my hand as I cried.
He held my hand as I screamed.
He held my hand as he watched me in agony.
He was my guardian angel, my archon on the people.
With his slick words and call to action,
He eased hearts of those who saw me as evil
He brought loads of coffee, placing them into the hands who were hurt by me.
He told them stories of great glee.
He was the champion of the evil within me.
