The last of the fight was over,
and the crows called the vermin.
I did not need to stay any longer
for the gorging that would
sate beasts for weeks
on end.
I walked out
into the pending darkness,
the last rays of sun
a reflecting pool
of the slaughter,
the last drop of blood and light
trickling into
the clutches of an ebon sky.
It was enough.
I welcomed the silence,
and the chill in the air.
The knife was heavy
on my hip,
and spirits whispered to
use it and throw myself
on the altar of death’s peace.
I don’t know how, or why
I resisted the call.
The gory blood reeked,
and my lungs begged for
air that only distance could give me.
And so, I leave the carnage
and feast behind me.
Maybe the night will grip me
with fear.
Maybe the day will greet me
with mercy.
Maybe the spirits I made
at my blade’s bidding
will haunt me
the rest of my days.
But I live, and I walk, and
leave my worn, weary
boot prints in the mud
of the last
Blood Road.
The last of the fight was over,
and the crows called the vermin.
I did not need to stay any longer
for the gorging that would
sate beasts for weeks
on end.
I walked out
into the pending darkness,
the last rays of sun
a reflecting pool
of the slaughter,
the last drop of blood and light
trickling into
the clutches of an ebon sky.
It was enough.
I welcomed the silence,
and the chill in the air.
The knife was heavy
on my hip,
and spirits whispered to
use it and throw myself
on the altar of death’s peace.
I don’t know how, or why
I resisted the call.
The gory blood reeked,
and my lungs begged for
air that only distance could give me.
And so, I leave the carnage
and feast behind me.
Maybe the night will grip me
with fear.
Maybe the day will greet me
with mercy.
Maybe the spirits I made
at my blade’s bidding
will haunt me
the rest of my days.
But I live, and I walk, and
leave my worn, weary
boot prints in the mud
of the last
Blood Road.
BlackQuill 