For a flick of my blade,
sharpened with steel,
can glisten with blood.
For under the moonlight,
metal glints at my wrist,
my pitiful features reflecting back upon me.
For this is no life,
not with slaughter or tyranny,
penury or chaos.
For what gives me the right,
the power or authority.
For is it my destiny,
intertwined with the masters,
creating books of legends,
demanding they grow old as I do not.
For mine above all else,
why must my fate be.
Forcing me not to give,
but to take.
Forcing me to relinquish all that I am,
lose all that I have become,
so that I may end the lives of sinners.
For what says I,
amongst the many,
will not forfeit our tenants,
for the righteous path.
For a flick of my blade,
may change the world.
For a flick of my blade,
may destroy it.
