My venomous idol
You strike from afar
Where the miles keep your beauty safe.
But time does pass,
My lovely siren
Yet your poison will not pass my skin
When miles mean
Just less than nothing
The striking god will finally be stricken.
With the silver blade
My blood soaked hands
Will extract the poison you seeked to pay
And your blood will spill…
Your breath will still…
Revenge now dealt, the first of many…



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