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Here is a tale to tell, a story unfolding its magic spells.
This tale is quite unlike any that you've heard before.
For it is a story telling of a unique fight, an important war.
This story shows will to survive in the deep dark depths where no one comes out alive.
But now let us begin!
And tell the tale of The Assassin.
In the dark smelly room a young boy sat, quite unable to see.
In the stillness of the night, he was unaware of what he was to be.
But that evening by the candlelight, he caught a glimpse of his future shadow, petrified by fright.
A pale figure, a ghost in the night.
All alone in the pale moonlight.
What he had done seemed to fit perfectly.
But how did he do it?
Time seemed slow.
He asked, he cried.
There was no answer.
He had lied to himself.
Something in him had died within himself.
He was an assassin, that was all.
He was the greatest, before he took that fall.
And now he had lost his stride.
His war was over, he knew.
There was nothing at all left for him to do.
He had asked, there was no answer, and he had lied.
He had died.
He had lost his stride.
He had once been The Assassin.
In the dark smelly room he sat and sighed.
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Copyright © Dan E. Golden | Mirrorglassball 2009-2018