"Almost Green"

"Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)"

Come, heart dripping with black.

Grasp your only friend once more, feel the cold steel against your hand.

Hold them tight, never let go.

Never, not until the sands of time in your hourglass run clear.

Every move hurts, every step forward burns like boiling tar poured into your soul.

Gaze upon the sky, remember where you came from.

Your entire life, nothing but an eternal struggle.

You fought. 

You killed.

You conquered.

You won.

Yet, you lost so, so much.

The drum beating inside your chest shall never know another’s warmth.

The hands that take lives shall forever be tainted by crimson.

Your eyes, the silent witnesses to crimes far beyond your trembling sense of morality. Your mouth, the voice of a soul torn in two.

Your ears, deaf to their pleas.

Your nose, stuffed with copper.

Your fingers, eager to wrap around a fool’s neck. To pull the last, dying breath from their throat.

War. All you know is war.

So don’t pretend to be something you’re not.

A puppet, limbs moving with each pluck of your strings. Each command of your master.

Take the wobbly steps forward.

Raise your blade high above your head.

Face the masked. Unmask the faceless.

Spill their blood and bathe in it, swine of war, for you know nothing but just that. 

You are a knight. You are a trembling pile of metal.

Your opponent stands tall, brave and unmoving. They let the first move be yours.

You take the plunge. Your legs glide across the battlefield. Your sword moves on its own accord, as it hungers for blood.

You gaze into the eyeslits of the enemy. Their helmet doesn’t betray any emotion.

You plunge the blade deep into their steel carapace. Metal clangs against metal.

The enemy dodges. It’s graceful. Something you lack. Something you’ve never been aware of.

You fall forward. Onto your knees.

Lay there, motionless. It’s useless to stand. There is no point.

The enemy towers over you. You cannot see the sun behind their back.

With a swift move of their blade, you lay decapitated. Blood flows from your neck-stump.