Once upon a time, there lived a man,
Determined to cleanse the street.
He was holy, pure in intent,
Burning with zeal, dressed so neat.
Every sacred night, he took his turn,
Setting out to redeem a soul.
One after another, he cured them all,
He loved their faces, pure and whole.
The air grew thick in clouds of despair,
Beckoning a legend none would dare.
The silence grew tall as fog grew strong—
Was he right, or was he wrong?
He was all but a man of God,
Tasked to free the lost and dread.
And yet, when he was done,
More than a few ended up dead.