Nothing that breathes is above betrayal.
+
Nothing that breathes is divine.
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Out from the shadows, well-wisher.
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The gleam of your blade gives you away.
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Drawn from me, my smiling assassin,
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Meet the blood that moved you-
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The blood of encouragement
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Spilling as common water.
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They will serve you...
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Long live the king.
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Soak up to your arms in his blood.
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Long live the king;
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They will serve you well.
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And you loyal friend, leave an ice pick in my neck as it were mine to keep.
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How terribly cold.
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I breathe, and count my shallow breaths.
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Add another edge: Be sure to twist the blade.
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If come one, come all of this, a celebration of treachery and scissored flesh.
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Fall in, stain your steel in festive red-
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Here, where the sheep are butchers.
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A fresh patch of skin to pierce,
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One cannot resist.
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Unsteady steps.
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Each waning, determined for purchase.
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I am he who falters, stricken with one thousand blades.
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With unsteady steps, I find my balance in deception.
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Step by burning step.
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Warm in the presence of malice.
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Barefoot among a skulk of men.
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Eyes ahead and taller still,
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I never look back.
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No.
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I knew not your names.
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I knew your numbers.
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I knew you all too well.
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Two blades for every inch of flesh.
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Ensanguined.
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This is that which did not kill me.
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There's always room for one more blade...
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Not much a sight for sore eyes,
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The harrowed form of living will:
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Bent,
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And black,
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And so terribly cold.
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There's always strength for one last breath.
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