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Stone TowerPain and sorrow greet me,
Endless like the deepest sea.
Danger here, within the tallest tower,
Close the doors, we must keep it at bay.
Vile worm has poisoned the sacred,
Only one can stop the coming dark.
We cannot allow him to pass,
Or he will go to his doom.
Master, stand guard before the gate,
He will fight until his death.
Cut with the blade, end him.
Stop this growing madness.
The Smallest LightRan away, tried to hide,
Did not realize what lay inside.
This shadowed canyon stained with blood
Contained a killer, a shining silver blade.
He craved death, brought winter cold,
Destroyed families, knights, a queen.
Yet nothing could have prepared him
For the sharp wit and mind of a mortal girl.
A dagger drawn, a deal was made,
A hand around a throat.
Yet for all his wicked dark ways,
She saw the smallest shred of light.
Determination, battles won and lost
Uncovered his fear, his guilt, his rage.
Anger and an unexpected kiss,
Soon love formed within a black heart.
Master of the Shadows, murderer,
Winter's Breath, a halfblood, Sage's Bane.
And now simply trying to understand
How they can forgive him after all he has done.
Guide of DarknessDarkness may try to cover the light,
We may hide in endless night.
Still listen to this tale of old,
A promise of life that is yet to be told.
Golden fox and sweetest song
Bring hope and right what is wrong.
Though we may not yet see the day,
The golden song shows us the way.
Shadows come and consume all,
Still there remains a flame
Burning through the evil one,
Rage's designs soon come undone.
There, the greatest sacrifice,
Light will die when day comes nigh.
Stubborn is the hope that refuses to fade,
Honor brings ruin to Rage.
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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