Dead Knights Den
The soul seeks salvation.
Will you free it? Or will you continue to play the side devoted to self sacrifice.
You who have fallen, identify yourself as the drummer boy who storms into the war of self sabotage.
How foolish of you to mistake selfishness for bravery.
Yet I find that I pray you seek wisdom in the scars afflicted upon yourself. For it was your own hand who carved them there.
Your own hand that brought down the stroke of the sword upon yourself swearing that you were attacking an enemy.
You name yourself as a parasite yet you know not what you have infected.
For you have infected nothing, all you have accomplished is deceiving yourself.
Run from your eyes, flee from your hands, refute the truth from your mind.
For you know that this is all your doing.
All because you chase around a belief that you are the red in a sea of blue.
All because you believe you are a colt amongst the mustangs.
No eyes but your own ever looked down upon your back.
No hand but yours ever drew blood from your skin.
Thou art tarnished from your own mold.
Casted from the deceit of your mind.
There is nothing more I can do for you.
You alone must realize and atone for your injustice upon yourself.
Your blood has yet to dry.
Written 2 February 2026 at 7:10 AM
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