This is the year zero:
this is the Monday of your life.
And you're a superhero,
even if only for a while.
You take the sky;
your x-ray eyes discern the lies that we utilize to justify our thin disguises.
If this is ground zero,
your stoic fortress of the strong,
there's nothing to fear,
oh no,
this is right where you belong.

Combating vile, destructive, cowardly vibrations,
the spite and pettiness and cheap recriminations.
Battling Cynico,
The Undertow,
The Instigator.

Busting Kid Ennui,
The Third Degree,
Ego-Deflator.
Taunts and hurdles.
Haunted, burdened.

Rain soaked, bone deep.
Cold and lonely.
Where are you, Sincero?
We need you more than ever now.
Your waving Bandera,
your boots and cap furrowed brow are symbols of the light above.
Your siren calls us to steel ourselves against the monolithic smallness.

Where are you, Sincero?