my weapon of choice will be a sword, sharp to cut through flesh and bone. it will be hewn from ore created by the same earth fury that rages within me. it will be sheath in a sleeve, made from the hides of creatures i have slain. it will be decorated in rubies and sapphires, my sister birthstones. one as red as blood, a glistening crimson, good enough to eat. the other an impenetrable blue, thick and uncompromising, disregardful of reason, conscience and emotion. i will wield it in my regal splendor, in a fashion only people of my great stature, so devoid of a soul can only perform. i will be beautiful in the eyes of my victims, their final memories of me before i snuff them out. i will slice with it, cut with it, stab and dismember. impale, behead, i will slaughter with extreme eagerness with no tinge of human mercy. i will bathe in blood and sweat. their screams will be my music. the stench of death and the dying will be my perfume.
i will make God regret and even the devil will hesitate to take me."
an entry i wrote long ago in my secret blog, under the identity who lives the life i cannot even acknowledge. i though he had vanished a long time ago. i however thought wrong.
1 comment:
This reminds me of Tolkien. How the details overflow explicitly across the page, bringing the reader into the palpable imagined reality. An alternate consciousness achieving what the now deems inappropriate. Unencumbered by society, reason, virtue. Pure, and absolute.
Just the way I like it.
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