Page Twenty-Eight

Blade in each hand,

A hooded figure

Descended upon the head of the beast,

Stabbing through,

Drawing blood's spout.

And the life of the beast was taken.

The murder was heard, through word of the earth,

Resounding and rebounding whispers,

Alarm waves ringing down, and around,

Absorbing the soul,

Ethereal prodigal child.

Space watches, and witnesses,

and remembers.

and feels...

...and enraged air beats red.

Through the thickness,

the buttery crimson clouds,

An anti-hero stands accountable.

Calming nature's tauran tempest,

to a hum of a distant drums' strum.

Ignorance flailing for comfort,

Found between the abyss,

Nestled in the aura of a dark saint.

Who is this dealer of fates?

Youth in eyes.