confessions of a never ceasing mind
2004-03-14 00:28:29 (UTC)

double edged sword

a double edged sword is handled with great skill. It's
master has the abilty to create or destroy with a single
deft twist of the wrist. The master takes the sword in
hand, knowing hte consequences that he makes. He takes a
smiple stroke to render me bleeding, render me dying, my
heart torn asunder.

He drew her close, his words sweet to the ear and heart.
Opening her to the possiblity of love's eternal dawn. She
draw closer, closer still, to stand before him, staring
into her eyes, looking into her soul. He bends ever so
slightly, burshing his lips upon hers, the sweet promise
evident upon them. He smiles in his mind, drawing her
closer still, his hand wrapped around the blade hidden. He
twist his arm, tricking her to think that he is moving
closer. She moves toward him, never knowing, euros has won
over logical psyche. Her heart taking over her mind,
poisoning it, leaving it open. He twists his wrist with
one fluid motion and drives the blade to the hilt into her
body, the point running her through. Her eyes open wide,
her arms slide over his, trying to grasp to something,
trying to hold on to the life that is flowing over the
blade. His movement is pure fluid grace as he removes the
blade, watching her fall, watching her as her life's blood
spills onto the ground. He bends to his knees, watching
the terror fade, watching her eyes glaze, a smile upon his
lips. He gathers her into his arms for one last brush of
her lips, before she fades into the next world. Her lips
taste sweet to him, kissing her deeply, almost as if he s
drawing the life away. She grows limp, her skin cooling,
growing white and waxy. He gazes into her lifeless eyes,
closing them tenderly. He gently lays down to the ground
and walks the direction that he came, walking away from her
body, leaving it exposed to view, open to find.

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