A Settling of Ways
by Into the Moat· from Means By Which The End...Is Justified
tangled in this divine coil
i ponder on the concrete and the highest of laws
the injuries layed upon cannot be excused
i will keep you company not much longer
for i see my end is bound by earth
but not thrice i go under
at the smallest of ills, i lay my sword upon the table and ask for blood
i place a plague on all your houses
my half is dead for yours has slain
the end is not the end you live, so why dread i send no messenger
the nectars and wounds
are too great to let by
all i ask for is justice
for death is death no matter if the axe is golden
and love is love no matter how selfish