FAIR

[lostfiles]

FAIR | Pale of complexion, pale of passion, he is pale when all else stand strong. He wavers like his curly hair, he simpers; the sincerity of his smile is weak, an uncertain touch could wipe it away. Standing on the block he cowers and lies, back steps, side steps, gives in, gives up and discards all sense of honour. No fire burns within his heart, within those delicate eyes, that fair face and lauded prosperity. His idea is fickle, his ambition ever crumbling. He will not stand up for his friend. He will not defend what he believes to be right.