A bounty hunter of sorts, one of the many faces you wear, for words are but your weapon, and theft is your repair. You see you are a liar above all else, with little need for flight, and still you run across the lands, leave them without a fight. You’re the man between the worlds, the way to bring them close, when pulling back the middle veil requires but a dose. For while you skitter between both reality and dream, you’re leading them to place of control, no true intentions seen. Mnemosyne is the curator and you have been its feet, for where it can’t afford to go, you offer a retreat. So sometimes you’re in darkness, that stranger in the night, but other times you reel them in with charm amidst the light. Either way you are a guardian, a captor, or a guide, with just one word, you know it’s true, they have no place to hide.
Maybe it’s a virtue or maybe it’s a sin, but still you are forgiven, for bright alluring grin. And sometimes when you think of it, you are a hero bold, with knowledge and with subtlety, with words so winged by gold. Perhaps you are too boyish, too innocent in youth, for what you do not wish to see is the demanding truth. Ignorance is bliss they say, and for a man so smart, your knowledge is no blessing, suspicion rules your heart. For you are still a messenger, at least that part is true, but what you’re moving is the truth, the lies they cling to you.