Love, the worst thing to die for
King of ancient southern land,
twisted, evil and corrupt,
a cold sneer placed upon his stone-like face,
eyes dark and hollow, which contain no love.
Speaking words full of poison,
while harboring dark thoughts,
with his out stretched hand that mocked me so,
in such a way that made my blood run cold.
Locked in place by overwhelming fear,
controlling my desire to run and hide,
I stand an stare into the abyss that are his eyes,
searching for the little humanity he has left.
A single tear runs down my face,
an ache in my chest so I cringe in pain,
he swiftly pulls back his leather gloved hand,
slowly drawing his long, blood stained sword.
King of ancient southern land,
twisted, evil and corrupt,
' please spare my life' is the last thing I said,
before the metallic, silver blade came flying down.