Mey Rin's Song
The world is a damp painting
smudged messily
by small hands.
So close, too close,
step back, stand far
stand far from me
so that I may see...
This world is so cold
so blurred
so alien to me.
Where do I fit?
With death, with death.
Where do I belong?
With no one,
with nothing.
I am a splotch of red
in this watery world.
I am the angel of death.
Everything clear is too far,
too far to reach.
Everything close is too unclear,
too unclear to know.
A nebulous life,
a vicious life.
I stand with my delicate hands
clenched around
black steel and murder.
My body is a woman's,
My intent is an assassins,
my heart is a broken girl.
Why should I belong here?
...
My master bids it.
...
You possess a tremendous gift
...
No,
this curse is...
My master bids it.
...
Why?
...
Protect.
I have never done that.
Protect.
I can see the sharp edges of your world,
they are made of blood and darkness.
But this is clear,
For once this is clear.
Protect.
Protect.
Protect these secrets that remain purposely unclear.
I stand with my eyes, distorted and dangerous
and I swear to all that is holy and unholy,
I will,
I will protect.
I will.
I will.