He were young and resolute.
Colorful and kind.
He had decided,
never to become like his father.
He was dissicive, naive and blind.

With every choice appeared many roads.
His beautiful heart beated fiercely,
for every soul,
he met.

He understood,
way too late,
that a heart could not be divided
again and again
without cost.

He grew close to understand the morals of his father, by every moral conflict that he lost.