I'm a writer delving into the darker parts of human perception. When it is ok to be seen for what the light would blind your eyes to. The darkness opens to overwhelm those so-called innocent, knowing they are the ones begging to be overcome with lust for the fallen. 

I live through the fallen. Re-telling the forgotten stories of heroism as it was without the shining armour and valiant knight. But rather, with the blood and carnage that comes at the cost of seeing the truth too late and having to fight for yourself, the last remnants of your life, only to see those fragments slip away into a dream of make believe. 

And what you are left with is the knowledge that you were too weak to save your own life. Or rather, you saw the true value of your life and let it go. Willing more to see it taken than to let anyone else know that you willingly surrended. Like a coward you begged for sanctuary after declaring to betray those who fought beside you for a common goal. 

Your foe will look upon you with disgust and be rid of your scheming ass faster than you can break the air with your tortured screams of "I thought We HAD A DEEEAAAALLL" Knowing all the while that those you betrayed would have laid their lives for your existence. 

There is no redemption for the weak.