Above the village of Chamounix, where mountains touch the sky, I pen these words to you, Victor, with a heavy sigh. In your quest for creation, you sought to defy fate, But in your wake, you left a being to contemplate.

Performing “transgender rag”, I dance to my own tune, In a world that often judges, beneath the silver moon. Like your creation, I seek acceptance, a place to call my own, In the shadows of society, where seeds of doubt are sown.

Victor, do you see the pain you’ve caused, the tears that have been shed? In your pursuit of greatness, you forgot the living dead. Your creation, a reflection of your own inner strife, A mirror to your soul, a testament to life.

I too have felt the sting of isolation, the ache of being alone, In a world that often judges, where compassion is unknown. But unlike your creation, I choose to rise above, To seek out understanding, to find a place of love.

Victor, let this be a lesson, a message from the heart, That in our quest for knowledge, we must not tear apart The bonds that make us human, the ties that bind us near, For in the end, it’s love and kindness that conquer all our fear.

-santana A ;|