Covered in blood and surrounded by nightmares.
‘Cause there is no escape from my hand, my blade.
Walking from one pub to another.
‘Cause all that matters is my power, my patterns.
No rights and yet my verdict is holy.
‘Cause you know your sin and I know my sentence, my kin.
All in black, like a shadow or night itself.
‘Cause punishment must be served with my part when it’s deserved.
(A poem I made for my class at uni. I’ve got Assassin, thief, and judge as a keywords)