This padded snow is seeping in.
My breath is hard and rash.
This girl has made a fool of me,
the fight was just a flash.
A glint of silver is what I see,
I move on intuition.
Perhaps I can get her to agree,
surrender as admonition.
But incendiary eyes,
are what comprise,
her unmitigated fury.
Her weapon whips,
through air and sky,
personifying her jury.
She missteps, and I imply,
gently, with my compound's eye,
the meaning of my words.

Iron chafes the ground of grass.
Her body shifts with fluent ease.
Reverent speed I can't surpass.
Her saber, bringing death's disease.

But...

She contemplates all that I've said.
My eyes are locked on savory skies.
Life and death are on a thread.
Her maxim's pact she can't defy.

My steadied hand can take the risk,
with no regard for identity,
of moving blades, as I am frisked.
Another piece of my weaponry.
Assassins grace will carry through.
Perhaps to be my remedy.
Her hidden blade makes its debut.
Restoring lost integrity.

Silence permeates rotten skies, as snow flakes hit the earth.
My limbs are feeling ragged, my breathing is overt.
Calamity is added, by the blush she can't desert.

“Hello, and welcome to the show.
My name is Captain Sin.”
As Dancers tumble to and fro,
protected by thick skin.
“Release the snare!”, the Captain yells,
gripping a chair, metal strikes bells,
The audience roars with anticipation.
And the tigers temper, is just causation.

But Captain Sin is never through.
Lacking neither whip or mood.
He swings his crop and hits it true,
confidence is what he exudes.
The tiger rears to claw his face,
But Captain Sin just seems displaced,
too quick to see or venerate,
a cause for cheers to celebrate.

Another crack across the skin,
the beast now seems subdued.
Another smack across it's chin,
the monster takes review.

The cage is closed to mournful eyes.
For those who thought of Sin's demise.
And Captain Sin, takes a final bow.
He removes his hat, to cloak his brow.
Sin shades the line of red they missed.
As music plays, the show persists.

In this dungeon I have built,
I question all my thoughts.
As my body comes to wilt,
my mind has yet to rot.
Which is why that I contrive to sell the world my soul,
I know that they don't need it,
but still I play the role.
So long have I looked out these bars which tether me,
with guilt I never had,
by thoughts I never see.
But I will serve my penance
Justice must be served.
Just leave me with the remnants,
life that I reserved.
I can't decipher what I mean,
I try to raise my tone.
At first, I thought, I am unseen,
Instead, I am alone.
But darkness is not unusual,
in the dungeon I am held.
The silence is rather usable,
and through it I am compelled.

I hear your notes of solid green.
Purple hues which writhe and teem,
on currents held within your ears.
No finite laughter, or subtle tears.

Strings quiver from your every touch.
Fingers dance in measured time.
Silently, both embraced and clutched.
Enticed with trances so divine.

Azure tints spit from the wood.
Taking stock of where we stood.
Speaking of love, lost then found.
Unaware of its resound.
I hear the tales of gloom and woe.
It's infectious touch.
With venom it's sowed .

I fear the end as tempo ebbs.
Advising sounds to take their place.
But softly you contort and blend.
Never losing tempo's pace.

Too long have lived,
both, Mother Earth and Father time.
Welcome with me,
Sister Blood and Brother Sublime.
Both kindred spirits without sign.
Still, pilgrims held among divine.

A sister is known as soft and sweet.
Effeminate, and often petite.
But Sister Blood holds no such ties.
Her body lays beyond your eyes.
Her spirit often fills your soul.
Her ways take dark and martial tolls.

Brother Sublime might tell you lies.
His heart is pure despite disguise.
The only aim, to see your smile.
Achievements hardly worth his guile.
Perverse or not, our Brother is true.
Alas, he is here because of you.

Stay your applause,
for them it's not needed.
Their power grows,
as their names are seeded.

Allow me to enumerate, subjugate and demonstrate.
To those parts of you which hold doubt.
But first, I must abdicate, on how your words agitate,
all the parts of me which act out.

You talk about eternity, the ageless infinity
But your precocity holds you like a vice in its grip.
You hold its hair back, like girls in sorority.
Desperate to keep it making the slightest of slips.

Don't ask for reason, is there ever any worth hearing?
I can tell you "you're beautiful, with a personality to boot."
But does that really make my words any more endearing?
For me, that is something that your self must refute.

If you had telepathy your thoughts would be a mess.
Sorting out the messages, from thoughts I can't suppress.
Enabling my addiction to your body and your soul.
You would watch my mind, as infatuation takes control.

Faith I have in abundance, in people not in gods.
Charon can take all his coins, and I will take those odds.
I approach with uncertainty. and offer it candidly.
My love is yours to take, don't take it offhandedly.

Where smoke and fire scar a scene we've lost to history.
Comrades leave the corpses, those naive to victory.
"But armor does not tire, even hanging onto bone."
Those ragged men recite this creed, when they die alone.

Leaders speak of fate and fear to hopeful crowds of eyes.
"No one makes the tacit choice of death without reprise."
Solace leaves the hearts of those wise enough to know
awful sights, which wait out there, and its audio.
"Can you hear the thunder of a thousand steel boots?
Will you heed the call of gods from armored metal suits?"

Iron plates and sundered fates rest the minds of men.
Even though they never know how it starts again.
Irrelevant as it's all become,
death never breaks with morning's sun.
Below white clouds, hear the tantrum drum,
the stinking sound of melee begun.