#theoreticalities

A sinner’s self-fulfilling prophecy come to fruition. 

Waves of Red crawling out from underneath his skin. 

Swimming pools of black and blue blooming not too far behind. 

The very thread of his soul taut between the blades of the Fates,

with absolutely nothing to fucking show for it. 

He always liked to tell me it was his lot in life to suffer.

Who am I, 

to deny the man his purpose?

I am nothing more than the answer to his call.

Teeming with retribution.

I am here to serve.

Awash in the ardor of violence.

I am only a mirror to his cruelty.

A Harbinger of torment--with one designed purpose.

To.

Make.

Him.

03.19.24