There’s two sides to both our stories:
One is utopian, the other’s gory.
Your sentence, brewing with wrath
As you lay your sword down from a bloodbath.
I laugh, since I’ll be documentating your past.
Whether hero or villain, are you up to the task?
A blank canvas hungers for more tales.
Empty plot points plagues the protagonist.
There’s gaps in our understanding. Perhaps your story is far from finished.
But I’m still seeking salvation for my spirit.
I’m the best at being the worst.
I’m a blessing to the cursed.
I utter blasphemies as prayers.
I sing sirens in silence.
I’m quite peaceful in the violence.
I cross the road without chickens.
Yes, my pen can never make a decision.
The valleys of my choices desires the heights of mountains.