Noir

It was a slight movement
That could've given him away
But there were none to notice

Few find comfort in this gloom
Mostly they just would fear it
And avoid it in the shadowy night

Here with creatures unseemly
With scavengers and thieves
Those inconvenient to the light

Of a society that will not see
Its decaying grim alleyways
Riddled with forgotten bastards

Whose rise it should have caught
And relegated to oblivion
In a reliable forgettable purgatory

But they didn't see the slightness
Of its loathed and unwanted one
When he moved so subtly this night

And therein lies the irony
For he welcomed his disdain
The great Gift from his creators

Soon, he would show them
Of their inevitable future
Of all they had manifested in him

A moment of reckoning
When he would make the final move
And reveal all they had created

Again, a slight movement
A flicker of motion in the gloom
Timing himself for the passerby