To take a bite of the bitter fruit of revolution...
You'd bite your tongue
Your fate showing through as the blood trickling from thy lips
Shimmers in the moonlight
The transformation begins
Rebellion holding one standing matter
Perfection
Eyes become shaded with greed, determinded will power, and skill
There is no turning back, for now it's too late
That option was never exsistant
One by one, the sinful drop before your sight
A cloak of darkness, protection against the disease of death
Your note your weapon, you live only by its law
A smirk curves thy lips
You shall conquer them all
The world is yours to remold as you wish