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as yet another,
falls by my hand,
and i remove my sword,
from this man's bleeding center,
i suddenly begin to wonder,
what is the point of this?
why am i doing this?
what is driving me to fight, and to kill?
as i block, as i perry,
ans slice another man in half,
the answer floats into my mind,
and it is clear, unlike the blood on my hands.
i fight in this war, for a few reasons only,
to protect the person i care about the most,
to unleash my gift for killing, and turning it to help people,
and to satisfy my thirst for blood.
and suddenly,
all becomes quiet,
and once again, i am alone,
the only survivor of an onslaught.
and amidst the carnage,
the tempting smell of iron,
and the painful moans of the souls of the soldiers killed,
there is nothing left to do.
as i sheath my sword,
and begin to walk away,
i hear a horse galloping towards me,
and the clank of armor against itself.
i spin around quickly enough to see a knight wielding a sword,
with the obvious intent to kill,
holding a sheild,
and wearing a mask.
i draw my sword,
and quickly cut off the horses legs as it rides by,
the knight flies over top of me,
and lands with expert timing.
he re-wields his sword,
and charges at me,
when he is close enough, he swings,
and i block, re-directing the energy back at him.
he propells backwards a few feet,
and as we strike and block,
with no avail of breaking through eachother's defences,
i begin to feel uneasy.
even through the mask the knight was wearing,
i could feel the usual hate, exhilleration, exitement, and blood-lust that i usualy feel.
i see a small blind spot,
and i swing at it before he could tell what i was looking at,
i hit his hip with all of my strength,
then knocked the sword out of his hand.
i hold both swords like an "X" up against his chin,
and kick him in the back of the knees, so he falls,
while he is down, i kick off his mask,
and gasp as i see my own face.
he smiles, and laughs meniaclly,
as i figure out who he is,
he is my darker side,
the source of my evil.
he says that before he came here,
he was outside of the war-zone,
where the civilians continued their everyday lives,
... where the love of my life was, protected.
when i asked him what he was doing there,
he replied with he destroyed the city.
as fear fills my eyes,
and hate fills my chest,
i begin to wonder if he was lying,
or if he killed her...
no, he would not lie,
i would be able to know if he was lying,
he was a part of me,
and the blood of my love was on his hands.
filled with fury, i cut off his head,
and continuessly stabbed his dead body,
as if that alone,
would ease my loss.
but as i killed him,
i began to die,
i was empty,
and my life was slipping away.
the last thoughts in my head,
before i colapsed and died,
was a prayer that i would be with her,
wherever she may be.
 SidertickSword · Mon Mar 16, 2009 @ 11:27pm · 0 Comments |
