literature

Hericide

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Literature Text

The mark of my shadow is left on the ground as I carry myself through the door

My sword is drawn, its gleam shows your face, though you've never seen it before.

Who are you to question my actions, when you weren't there to see?

Why must you advance on my castle as I gather up territory?

Give me my answers, don't wait for my blade to dull, for either way its aim shall be true.

The bookshelves clatter to the ground, your lectern won't make a sound, for you won't be here to hear it.

Well then…

I'll burn all your answers, for you won't give me mine, the blood slowly pools on the floor.

Your eyes watch my shadow as I drag it up off the ground to carry myself through the door.
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