"I am Death," I pour upon the crowd, tearing off my mask.
They gasp and gather to flee before I interrupt,
"But! I am not the Death you claim to fear so,
"I am the end of suffering,
"The light that guides you through life."
They calm, but are still anxious. These common people know little of my arcane being. I've been introduced, so I must explain myself.
"You fear Death as the end of life, but what so close to Death brings he? Only pain, suffering, despair.
"Wish you to invite such traumas endless?
"Nay!
"You cry so for Death to come take you, even as through life you scold and loathe him."
The crowd is visibly uncomfortable at this point. A few squirm in place.
"Am not I more merciful that the other horsemen?" I question.
"Do not I relieve thee of such great traumas as pain?
"How ungrateful you must be, see how I succor thee!"
I throw open my cloak, perturbing some in the front rows.
"Vey not Pestilence infect all of you, inflicting endless suffering if not for I?
"Vey not Famine starve ye all to paralyzing weakness?
"Vey not War tire even the most vicious-minded madmen?
"AND DO NOT I END ALL OF THESE?" I roar, tearing off my cape.
The mass flinches before me. Though I am harsh, I speak only truth.
YOU ARE READING
Book #2
PoetryThe old one is old and cringey. So I made a new one! I'm not a freakish middle school fangirl anymore, so you can read my ideas without internally dying! Now, it's meme time. // (mostly short stories and poetry, with a lil bit of meme-y stuff (idk)...
