The dish served cold, but with what pretense?
I am in the dark and cold, I've left the desire to be bold,
I am and will lie in wait here, even until I am old --- to see you.
Your back, my malicious place, my new home,
I wish I didn't need this blade, so my wrists could undo your form
beginning at the ribcage. How I wish to dispel this rage.
The structure guarding me from doom, holding my visage
in oblivion's place. This friend gives me the ultimate weapon,
and the greatest devastation you will not face.
Your armour, reflecting moonlight, my hunger has become thirst.
That shield, for what purpose gave it you the sky, such deception,
I understand from this place.
The steed, galloping, taking, puncturing fate for your impending, never-ending doom...my guardian of certainty, my knowing beast under mine enemy's line.
I raised you, but to die. Oh, inkling, minuscule minor thought, developing into this moment so grand.
Brace, you cannot...I will bless thee with the duty but to rot. Your future days are of paradise, and I witness from this kingdom until you come.
