Matthew moved he didn't run.
Those weren't legs it was air.
Rushing faster than he didn't care.
If his life remained here or there.
Once his axe was raised above shoulder height.
He didn't have the strength.
To set it down again.

There was nothing changed or nothing alive.
Less broken than put together wrong,
Once it came to shed light.
And truth trickled in.
Surrounding that night only hushed silence could be spoken.
Between them ever again.
If only that axe was sharper and my skills,
Weren't a boy's instead a man held that weapon.
It wouldn't have happened.
Ever.

Matthew was older.
His why solidified while.
Her's crossed her feet as mist.
Black and typical in a village.
Burnt cold by lives unreturned.
His father died from carried wounds.
Mother by disease, endless fever.
That life as a boy eagerly hearted.
Courageous with lungs of infinite capacity.
He'd breathe for hours at full speed.
His heart never undone.
His father's axe, always smiling.
Even through brown and off white
It passed through for hours on its way to him
And his mother in happier days.
But ghosts would hold here,
Never letting go, no matter how loving he,
Had to go on so.
He crushed them between his eyes.
Leaving the past to the dead.

Terror makes everything clear.
As it fades away we learn the truth.
Keep a weapon always by your side.
Even if you trust them.
It never hurts to be certain of the outcome.
Took it from me and left nothing in return.
Better not come back expecting to stay alive.
A dead man once did that to me.
Couldn't let him get away with that for long.
Killed him with silence to end his song.

Unspeakable grief.
Couldn't handle it.
Had to run into the mist.
Beyond village limits.
It carved a path unknown.
Untouched perhaps there.
The rules were different.
Maybe they're waiting.
For me, Father, mother,
I'm coming...
It's them.
It has to be.

There was nothing changed or nothing alive.
Once it came to shed light.
And truth trickled in.
Surrounding that night only hushed silence could be spoken
Between them ever again.
If only that axe was sharper and my skills.
Weren't a boy's instead a man held that weapon.
It wouldn't have happened.
Ever.

Moving couldn't happen.
She was struck by a life that wasn't.
Isn't, it can't be.
Said a chin angled and raised beneath tip of sword.
Odd cords of her own liquid, a red mystery.
Ran down where her sleeve should be.
Holding it for an answer didn't work.
A second sound pulled out a dirk.
Asked politely for this one.
Help yourself.

No telling a child of four.
How they'd been taken.
How they'd never come back.
No matter how long she waited.
Or how strong her will became.
They wouldn't drop in with the rain.
Couldn't reach that drain.
With arms deadened by spear.
To pull himself back into his daughter's...
Life of four fragile moments.