A man whose face is his
Stood motionless, staring at him
His eyes glassy
Void of the soul that is him
Trapping his other self behind
The reflection in the shattered mirror on the floor.
It's time for him to claim
The due denied by the weakling
Sure of his moves, his will in iron cast
He knows what should be done
His hands steady with no hesitation
Craving for necks that needs strangulation.
Helga, Hera, Honylee,
And finally Julia
Horatia incarnate.
No one would be spared
No one would live
He would kill them all!
One by one their life
Would be no more
Bitches who deserved
Nothing more than the existence
Of the daisies that bloom
Above the graves of harlots
The moon is smiling
Looking pleased with itself
It shines the grandest
When watching him
Draining the souls of those pseudo deities
That corrupt the minds of male species
He is the dark angel ascending
It is his honor to fulfill the task
Of ridding the world of trash
Women who cannot be mothers
Women who cannot be wives
Women who shouldn't walk this earth.
He is Julio
Not William
The real person
Not the delusion
The real Master
Not the Impostor.
YOU ARE READING
THE MASTER
Mystery / ThrillerMeet Julio - Inexplicable hunger eats him from deep within and a familiar itch started rising from his gut, traveling its way to his two gloved hands. And with blank stares, in a trance, his grip tightened; watching life getting drained from his pre...
