Poetry for the rogue cold warrior
is plunging the sword into the heart of anothers foe
watching his face filled with dying pain..
pulling his sword out with no remorse..
For this target in battle has been slain...
Turning to the next with a swing of the sword...
Cutting her head off precise and clean...
The blood pouring off her headless body..
But it is nothing new this jackal has seen...
Hardened to the core with a marriage to death..
Murder some cry with venemous rage...
A pact with the devil to the last breathe...
A servant to darkness locked in hells cage..
Cold black steel running through his icey veins...
Man, woman or child, to him its all the same...