for Benefice Chalkhill
There's stillness within a fierce battle.
It comes as the final blow lands.
The predator gazes unblinking
With blood on her blade and her hands.
When chosen prey senses life ending
A secret's found deep in doomed eyes,
The shadow of some nameless terror
Evoked just before the light dies.
There's power within the assassin
Who draws her life from her prey's fear.
As life and blood ebb from the body
She meets her prey's eyes and draws near.
There's no point to butchering creatures
Or cutting back down the undead.
There's no gift in incomprehension,
No fear when life's already fled.
Her passion is born out of dying
And fed by the song of her blade.
From echoes of her victims' terror
Her life is renewed and remade.
In silence, she waits in the shadows,
Then answers her own inner needs.
In life's fear of oncoming darkness
Is sacrifice on which she feeds.