A Machine Forged in Flame

Here I stand, standing within life’s game, the Big Red Machine, a machine forged in flame.

A childhood ruined by acts of cruel intentions, and so sought hot, hateful vengeance.

Here I stand, the fool treated unkind, the misfit, the outcast that everyone left behind.

A person who learned to love himself through chance and found love in others in this dance.

Heartless was the eve of the Nineteenth of May, the heat and the overwhelming pain.

Evil were Brother’s intentions in the dark, as my mind and soul were crisply charred.

Lest I forget these trespasses upon my sanity, with fire and brimstone I lost my humanity.

Forgiving him for who he was not awfully hard, but these memories of him I won’t disregard.

Heavily, heavily I carried this cross upon my back, flames of self-hatred blazing with no slack,

My face seemingly scarred; my sanity was shot; they said it was only within my thoughts.

Due to being the Bearer’s minion, dearest brother and I wouldn’t have had our bitter reunion.

Made sure that he faced heartbreak in a cage; letting out the hell in a cell that carried my rage.

Facing him then, against his newfound streak, this trauma resurfaced; it was like pulling teeth.

He had burned my home, a place I once felt most safe – long since I felt I had lost my real face.

I was not like any threat he had met prior; I was a machine he made, forged in that hellish fire .

Our past was diesel fuel to my undying, bitter rage. To his horror, I had escaped this nasty cage.

Credit: WWE

Not for the last time, I let my guard down – in seeking solace in Brother, my pride I did drown.

Again, we were the Brothers of Destruction. Again, we were together, fated soon for abruption.

Turning against Bearer only bore more bother – smugly he professed himself to be my father,

That my mother fell to his evil seduction; within me heatedly ignited a violent, caustic eruption.

Unsafe for me this place was, in ableist bigotry, while he had pranced around in his Ministry.

Privy to my hurt, they accepted me, a “creep”, uniting with Degenerates, union of red and green.

I grew, oh I grew from that scared, feeble teen, to a big fearless man – no – a Big Red Machine.

Because of them, my voice no more felt obscene, thereafter I felt heard, I felt heard and seen.

Vital fact of life: you’ll lose people, you’ll split apart, that pain leaves burning pain in your heart.

My newfound clan of degenerates left me a stain, reuniting me with that empty, lonely pain.

The aspect no one tells you about abandonment – you return to the hurt of disentanglement.

Such was the case with dear Brother yet again; we tried to make it work, for a while I felt sane.

Beside him, behind the mask, they were fearful, I felt amazing – dare I say, I felt cheerful?

Following what events that was yet to come, the mere thought of joy once more was dumb.

As evolution was to pass me by a man so evil –  a Hunter that had  targeted me with such vitriol.

Were it not for him, I would still be having fun, yet he took my mask; my safety net was done.

Credit: WWE

I still blame myself for how unhinged I had acted, truly I am not proud of that which I impacted..

Giving into the true monster at my very core, and I even prospered in what I couldn’t before,

Poor Brother, made damn sure he was buried alive, and as he died, the demon in me arrived.

Due to my actions he vowed to unleash his scorn, he was ready to battle against me once more.

From this point on, I let my madness play; ashamed I truly am to have allowed it to this very day,

So please, please your mercy, I propose – I am no more that monster, in that evil self-imposed.

Please, oh please absolve me of my grief, my regret; let me forget the path I took, let me forget.

Wanting not to relive the paths I once chose, let me be the man everyone now loves and knows.

So far in turmoil that I still felt abnormal, despite those reassuring me in ways most formal.

But clear to me I was assuredly still a ghoul. Said I to myself, ‘do they take me for some fool?’

Who they saw and who I saw were separate; deep down thanks to Brother, I was ugly and unfit.

On that May Nineteenth, emotions a whirlpool, my mind was forever scorched in ways so cruel.

Credit: WWE

Psyche frayed and burnt against every wish, betraying peers repeatedly, victims to my anguish.

Do not accede to anger, to hate – learn from my past, as I had done, where in it I basked.

To me, hate was infectious – to me, it was needed; others should embrace hate or be defeated.

Inside, I clawed my soul through that tunnel so fast, trapped by my own doing behind a mask.

As the devil’s favorite demon exited that blazing path, I left, ready to manage my inner wrath.

Within myself, good and evil would start to blend, thanks to Daniel, my heart began to mend.

Having lived a life of pain in this hellish ballad, in the embrace of others, would I be found valid?

Would it for once be possible, for someone to be my friend – or will it indeed mean my end?

Perhaps it was the time betwixt Daniel and I that we purged ourselves of our negative sides,

Learning to celebrate the small victories within, and saw ourselves as we were – great men.

Donning a suit, shedding my frightful exterior; true to form, I was betrayed by my superiors.

Whilst we fell in with toxicity, we reunited again, reunited in embrace among a chorus of fans.

Daniel found himself, in doing so, became his best, always looking forward to what was next..

As for me, I embraced – embraced myself with no regrets and embraced my worst aspects.

‘Why do people not want me?’ I’d grieve, ‘What’s wrong with me?’ ‘Why do they always leave?’ 

All of these queries from a lost soul, one of the rejects, to someone everyone now respects.

Credit: WWE

No longer was I to be the dunce people liked least, a hack in a suit, or a dreadful crimson beast,

Rather, I became a friend, became the best ‘me’ by far, and most importantly, a memorable star.

To those who are lost, take solace in my tale, you will find the way, find the way out of your hell.

It starts with a rocky road, potholes and broken heart, only to carve out the path to who you are. 

Look at me, a man who could be a dentist, he could be a politician, or anyone at his best.

An author, or an actor – I could be anything I want to, and in fact, if I can, then so can you.

Just be who you are, that is your own prize, but know that you will fall, and you will rise.

Yes, you will rise like a burning flame with sinew, scorching – sizzling, warm from embers anew.

Never to be that man again, for he is burned, yet I will never, never forget the lessons learned,

Using them to claim the title I desired all the same, abandoning past me, this I can surely claim.

Infernos of rage only dimly wash out the dark, blazes of love rise with so much brightness, hark!

Here I stand, standing within life’s game, the Big Red Machine, a machine forged in flame.