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Eion Lhee, no last name given, running running, no last name given but Lhee. Is crying, crying out, screams and shouts, all laughter, always pain, where he is happy joyful playing out his days, until he's gone. Soon enough, Eion Lhee, mapped by treasure chests of fear that ride his mind, always happy to be alive, would die to end the pain, and you can unlock the treasure for a fee. Silken flesh, unmarred, cut deep, a treasure map of scars, stuffed with fluff, constricting string, a two pound gut of feathers woven stiff and clean. Unclean. Broken over bright and dusty scenes, he watches cowpokes walking home, his Hell, Eion Lhee can feel that solemn Hell with every breath he'll breathe but never see, blue birds gather round and sing, unchirped, the black bird crushing down, unseen. Thirty days, a month, a room, a dream, a scream. And then the redness smears away the final scene, no words, no more. Eion Lhee will sleep.

Tattered hair, dirt-brown nails, tan slush upon his scalpped crown, unclean. Unwashed masses reaching up. He stands below the idol's figurehead. He dreams and wakes to sleep, the running sister reaches out to wipe the tears from his face, and he laughs like summer dreams adrift on southern winds and stubborn sins, like mama bent above a tug with longjohn's soaking waistline deep. No morther, Eion Lhee, no home to which he goes each night to call it home, no friend, a single party guest that he can't greet. Eion Lhee, he sits alone and weeps. Red. Red letters written thick. Red words he wants to keep. Red hands against white glass. Red dawn. And onward Eion laughs until the red moon comes to pass until he's gone. No lame named given, but Lhee.
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This is another character poem. I have Roderick's written out, but I will upload it later. ^_^