…Are You Lost?...
Are you lost?
Lost in darkness
Lost in lonely
Lost in self?
You won't be found
Never again
Never again
You are dead
You must be born
Anew
Born to kill
Born to
Survive
Because that's all it's
About – survival.
Stud your neck with
Trophies
Stud your heart with
Ice
Slash through all the
Mercy
It won't help you
Not here
It will only
Heighten
Your demise.
You aren't lost
You are gone.
Forget all that
Was
Forget all you
Knew
Forget your fear and
All you loved
Forget your
Self
Be Death itself
And then
Only then
Will you taste
Victory.
Trust me.
I know.
A/N: Another Scourge. After I wrote Mother and Son, I wasn't entirely satisfied. Because that wasn't the merciless, blood-thirsty Scourge – that was Tiny, the kit. There was another view to him, so I had to do that. Again, this one's different from my other poems. In first person, but mostly addressed to 'you'. I love it, though. It's so…cold.
