we are not so different,
you and I,
though you would probably
say something snide or
demeaning if we had this conversation
face to face, without your insipid
decaying fingers laying waste
to my flesh

i suppose it is only fitting
that you choose to deal with our problems
in a manner befitting children, not
more than six years old, driven by revenge and
calling for your mommy when the action
got too hot for you to handle

it is easy to forget the lies
when you seek your own way, isn't it?
when you want to play the martyr -
hands scarred and covered in my blood...
but where do you lie in the end?

when you attempt to extinguish this,
my spark will not die, my mind remains unchanged,
but you gain nothing...or perhaps,
a boost to your ego, when your target
has only the sheer will to survive...

but when you close your eyes,
my death does not give back what you
claim to have had stolen, what you threw away
remains elusive, and you drown in your sea of
bitterness - utterly alone and in the dark

Penned by my hand on the 25th of Haernos, in the year 97 MA.