Forging Strength

Date: 11/16/2013 at 00:27
From: Scarlatti's Muse, Chryseas Ashaela, the Argent Avatar of Art
To : Everyone
Subj: Forging Strength

Betrayal hollows out the heart,
Better than a surgeon's art,
Coring away all warmness internal,
Exacting every merciful kernel.

With compassion gone and also spent,
And a mind left to judge intent,
While pondering the consequence,
And what to do from here hence...

A Strength emerges from these ashes,
Forged from times when grief clashes,
With what felt right, or good, or joyful,
Replaced with pain and despair to stifle.

Emotions hardened and thusly chained,
A Strength of mind keeps them tamed,
Reverting to pursuits less "touching",
In my grasp, a rapier I'm clutching...

The cold of steel and metal are mine,
Slashing the flesh upon which I dine,
Empowered by the lore of runes,
Committing my hunt 'cross many moons.

In blood I bathe my blade in frenzy,
Surrendering to it as devotee,
Moulding the body to my mind's desire,
Physically and mentally to never tire.

Fashioned like the weapons I wield,
Never again will I come to yield,
Or sacrifice my deep convictions,
For others' weakness... their petty afflictions.

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Scarlatan, in the year 640 AF.