An Ode to L

By C

A man of many faces

A man of many names

Among those fake puppets,

There is a real master.

With a real face

And one name

That is only a letter.

L. Lawleit.

The Twelfth Letter.

'The Last One.'

One 'who stands alone'.

One 'without a successor'

'The Lost One.'

One 'dropped from heaven by some omnipotent being.'

An enigmatic lone wolf detective

With an extraordinary sweet tooth.

Oh, L. How we love his eagle-like crouch on the chair.

His snow-white pale complexion.

His white long-sleeve sweater and blue denim jeans.

His messy mop of charcoal hair.

And his big, empty black-hole insomniac eyes.

His martial arts are imparallel

With one precise roundhouse kick to the face, Kira fell.

Under the death god's sardonic stare

His impending death, beware.