Our idol, our God.
Your talent, we applaud.
Not one case left unsolved.
You had just one resolve.
Justice.
The code you live by.
We run into skinny, long arms, coal dark eyes, with black circles, that tell the truth, and hide nothing.
Black hair, like a veil, hiding the inner pain.
A slouch, a symbolism of all the grief in the world,
an unbearable burden.
Yet you take it all upon your own shoulders, and live.
You left it all behind,
you strengthened your mind,
you, L, are one of a kind.
With wide eyes we watched, as the screen lit up, and the letter appeared,
floating in white.
We eagerly awaited this day for forever, and when it arrived, there was not a blank face.
We heard your voice, a voice that hid no malice, that was calming and gentle,
but could not be pure, for it had to say the truth, always.
You, a monster? It could not possibly be thought by us.
A monster is a tyrant, a monster is a mass of hatred and horns.
You are no monster.
You follow the law, from which stems your name, a name so
justified, I can hardly explain. Lawliet. It speaks of mystery
and life. It speaks of the truth, and yet it lies all the time.
Just like someone else you knew.
You are our greatest downfall.
L.