Perhaps the world had been too kind,
Or not kind enough.
The reaper of judgement knows not,
Traveling from land to land,
Continent to continent.
But one thing stays the same:
How easy it would be.
To do what exactly,
Remains up to the gods,
The weight of their decision
At the tip of his fingertips.
The feel of electricity
Courses through his veins,
Untamed, unbridled,
Ready to be unleashed.
No one would dare stop him
When the time came.
Until then,
He waits in the shadows,
Hidden, safe.