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Death

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I have lived for too long.
Longer then most would ever want to.
As I sit upon my throne,
I stare into the complete abyss.

I start to wonder,
as I am forever to do,
is wonder why I am this.
What have I done?

I stare into other worlds,
I see the great light,
the colors one dreams of,
all of which is unobtainable to me.

The last memory I have,
so long ago,
was of me as a mortal,
living my life.

I was typical.
The opposite of now.
I was every other person,
except for my one flaw.

I believe everything has flaws,
regardless if they believe it.
But once learned completely,
it becomes your curse.

I learned mine.
I never meant to!
It just happened,
out of a fit of rage.

I was at one time,
longer then I can really remember,
someone of power.
Someone whom other feared.

While I lived a normal life,
family and all,
I was in charge of an army,
one only said in novels.

As the head,
the Don if you will,
I create plans,
and executed orders.

Few got in my way,
most never tried.
Those that did,
got the treatment of the gun.

It was simple.
It was efficient.
I kept my cool.
I was careless.

I was this head,
I help this power.
For years and years,
thus it had remained.

Why I was careless,
had to do with my group.
They were not tamed.
They had no real control.

Like one person said,
in a great film:
"Keep your friends close,
keep you enemies closer."

I kept my friends close.
I kept my family close.
But never my enemies,
and that was my down fall.

As I grew in power,
a rebellion was created.
Some people despised me,
something I never planned.

They acted well,
they fooled me.
I am a person that is hard to full,
a little info for you.

For years they had this mask,
one that cloaked them all.
I lived one life believing their lie,
they lived another.

How could I have been so wrong?
So cynical?
I have one theory.
The girl in shadows.

One night while at my desk,
writing out new plans for the group,
she walked in.
This beautiful girl around my age.

She was tall,
long flowing black hair.
Thin with perfect curves.
Not too large, not too small.

She said that she wanted to join,
saying she could go undercover.
She said she could dig up some information for me,
some I could not get any other way.

I thought about it,
I talked about it.
We thought about it.
We talked about it.

Once she was signed on,
we were pushing it to the limit.
We were walking along the razor's edge.
We were going places.

While the group was going,
so was me and her.
We were together,
we were both happy.

She became second in command,
when I had to leave.
I taught her all there was,
she knew what to do.

I was in Vegas,
working out some deals for a new branch.
I got a phone call,
from one of my only few friends.

I was informed of the down fall,
the group was thinking of new ways.
They were going to retaliate.
I never trusted anyone else.

I arrive back at my lodging,
back in my town.
I abandoned all of my weapons and money,
except for some money and my ultimate weapon.

While I was clearing everything,
making it all ready for future events,
a tragedy happened,
unlike any other.

I turned on the news,
to my bitter shock,
to learn of my family,
all dead.

I sat stunned,
as the camera zoomed around the scene.
I noticed somethings,
that told me who done it.

There was a symbol for my group.
The symbol was of a Catholic styled 'Z'.
It was branded into the chest of them all,
already covered with flies.

A darkness concealed me,
changing me into my last form.
Vengeance changes a person:
It can make them realize what they are capable of.

I burnt all of my belongings,
even my legal papers.
I knew that for revenge,
I shall die in the process.

I bought my only tool,
knowing the dish that was about to be created.
An old saying said that vengeance is a dish best serve cold.
They were damn right about that.

With a black leather cloak on,
my head covered in shadows,
I took the scythe in hand,
and got my revenge.

It took me days,
finding everyone who was responsible.
The news said that it was beyond shocking,
just the sight of the red red kroovy to start.

Once I found someone,
willing to speak,
I learned who ordered the attack:
The girl in gray.

I spent days finding her.
Weeks.
Months.
Until she came into sight.

I found her home,
payed for with my money.
I entered her home,
and waited for her to return.

I looked into her files,
trying to find the truth.
I came upon it,
but as to why I never expected.

She was someone from my past,
someone I never imagined to see again.
Fate must be true,
for mine was already sealed.

A while back,
during one rebellion,
a man died,
all by accident.

A fight broke out,
one that divided a town.
Massacres everywhere,
not a pretty sight.

Decas of people died.
I was healed responsible.
One such person,
was The Girl In Gray's brother.

I put down the report,
and then opened another.
This one said of how she found me.
I should have known.

She worked for an opposite organization.
Worked for someone who was against me.
She was paid to spy on my.
Her loving me was unintentional.

I heard a noise!
The sound of a lock clicking.
I hide in the dark,
waiting for her.

She enters this stage,
tired from her day.
She goes to her liquor cabinet,
getting herself a drink.

She makes one,
she kills it.
One solider arrives,
she knocks them done.

When she was intoxicated,
she passed out.
Her head on the bar,
her pale neck exposed.

I stalked over to her,
The scythe in hand.
I leaned it over her neck,
prepared to slash.

I bring it down,
hearing the slicing of the bones,
when I hear something else,
something unexpected.

I look down on my cloak,
feeling a pain.
I see a dark red appear.
The red red kroovy.

I see her hand,
a gun in hand.
I saw her phone,
a camera showing my location.

I smiled.
She new all along.
Naughty naughty naughty!
You filthy old soonka!

I lay on my back,
my eyes closed.
I relax,
feeling my soul fading.

It felt like years,
maybe decades,
until I open my eyes,
to what I saw.

A black room,
with a table in the middle.
On one side a skeleton,
with a picture of wine and two goblets.

I join this reaper,
taking a glass,
and having a drink
all the while wondering his motive.

He says that due to my crimes,
ending lives I should never have,
I am doomed forever.
to reap the souls of those who are doomed.

I am never to age,
never to be seen,
just to rot away,
until someone else is picked.

For about a hundred years I have done this,
living on this throne watching the world.
I start to love this job,
seeing how I see everything.

I have seen a hell of a lot,
from a mass genocide to the destruction of two towers,
I have seen it all.
I am legend.

I look into the abyss,
my only friend,
and I see my next target,
one that I must get.

I allow the darkness to absorb me,
feeling my bones being shoved into the darkness,
and to my next victim,
whomever that might be.

I land at the base of a cliff,
a suicide caused by a grieving teen.
How pitiful,
someone takes their life for love.

I shake my skull,
taking my scythe.
I lean it over his heart,
and pierce him with the blade.

Once the blade glowed,
a fantastic white,
I rip it out,
seeing the hole fix itself up.

This is my curse,
the one I am forced to live by.
All due to a few choices,
I am doomed forever to be alone in the darkness.





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