If only you could see what I’ve seen with your eyes

I wanna live like Roy Batty howled in that hollow building,
hunting his brother/killer in a drab World-to-come
stripped of his future his lover and having killed his Maker
the killer-Maker, for not giving more life

but he chose kindness even as he died a
fugitive’s death a slave’s death his last act, running out of
time was to lift up the man who sought to kill him
for being alive