Savra bites deep into my stomach,

I see her disgruntaled gaze,

My temperature begins to plummet,

This is the end from a life that has met its raze,

No matter my attemps, my life could not raise,

Nor could I experience the suns rays,

This strike truly deserves praise,

I do regret that its now while I’m in the maze.

I can see Savra before me,

Her body is curved – her body is black – and she wishes to be free,

I can feel her sucking every drop of blood like the tree,

Did I at least set them free?

The look of hatred burns in this ones eyes,

I wonder if this will make him feel good,

I could my life be his long awaited prize,

To dream of redemption is all I could.

Savra, my dear, my lover, my sharp blade,

Do I taste sour like old putrid grapes?

Do I taste refined like wine to be paid?

Do I fill you with sustenance like crepes?

I will miss life, a monster is my end,

Maybe I can be a beautiful knife?

Maybe it is only butchered meat I rend!

Please Fael, I just started this new life!

Why must I die in such a quick cruel way?

I know he is justified but please… please!

Let me see another beautiful day!

Let me save those who are about to freeze!

Turns out I am a coward to my core,

Watcher, give me one chance, let me be raw.

Grabbing a blade after it strikes is all one can do,

I knew the day was coming and yet to it I rue,

If I stay standing – if I remain up there will not be death!

I can’t let the blade leave my stomach or it will be my last breath.

The world is forged in blood,

In this place, my body will become food for the plants,

Will I be returned to the great tree of life or will I become mud?

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

What is a monster if not one who with humanity can only dance?

I was a monster already, what do I have to fear?

Why should I be scared if I can feel Fael coming near?

Why should I worry if my life flashing before my eyes is at what I peer?

Savra, oh how your embrace is glorious,

The cold is becoming a warmth of beauty,

I can see you so much more clearly than before,

Together we were unrelenting and victorious,

I wonder what would have happened if my life was not cruelty,

Perhaps I should have bought some nice clothes before opening deaths door?

The killer of a killer – will he be celebrated or notorious?

Does this go for or against his duty?

I hope that he can live life to its fullest and experience more.

I do feel bad – the face of one so consumed with hatred – that life is laborious,

I hope he existed for more than just to ruin me,

For once I am gone, the rest of his days will be quite poor.

“Don’t you dare take away my redemption just to live a shitty dull life.”

“What do you know, Fa? All you ever did was cause people strife.”

“I have been reborn and want to change the world for good.”

“Who would believe that? You are a blight on even the strongest brotherhood.”

“Once you kill me, what then?”

“I become a hero who finally gave the justice desired by everyone – woman, in between and men.”

“And what then? You return a hero yet you are now a killer. Blood is on your hands.”

“The difference between a hero and a murderer is for whom you have plans.”

“Poetic and true, but be careful for after this there shall be no fans.”

“I do not give a fuck, you took everything from me so why should I care about if’s, but’s and can’s.”

“I will become a monster upon my death.”

“Good, then I can kill you again for my rage has not left.”

“I won’t be in a form that you can harm – I will become a weapon like Savra whom you cradle so dearly.”

“You know your fate that clearly?”

“Take the risk if you would like.”

“There is no turning back – this is a fatal strike.”

“Can I say a few last words?”

“Why ask? It’s just me here, not herds.”

The watcher comes now,

The eyes watch, the voice chirps birds,

Relentless vengeance,

These shall be but storied words,

Bloody intensions,

Soul shattering into thirds,

Eyes and dimensions,

What say you, watcher above?

To break conventions.

I do not fear, only love.

Monster ascensions.

I am undeserving of,

“Fa. Well done. Now die.”

The blade is torn from my stomach – his strength is mine hundredfold,

Blood flies, I hold my hand over the wound hoping to keep it controlled,

Sillouettes fly in and tackle the man, how bold.

I feel so cold.

So old.

Gold.