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thecricketerThe hero is supposed to spare the villain.
That is how their story goes. Compassion to austerity, kindness to ferocity, mercy to cruelty.
They have their roles, they play their parts; the hero remembers how it ought to be.
Reunions of murder and manipulation, endangered friends and needless death, and they walk away licking their wounds, awaiting the next.
Intricate plans and reckless heroism, a war of wills and wit and wrath, selflessness against sadism, and they battle until one has given up or saved the other.
Swords flashing and tongues lashing, and it is not blood but passion that stains the memories red.
Agony dealt, vengeance gained, freedom bound; a play of loathing and kinship used to torture the spirit and stay the hand.
A saviour and a slayer, creation and destruction beautifully rendered, lives taken for gain and saved for nothing, and neither understands.
The warmth of hearts and the chill of hearts, beating in dissonance forevermore.
Yet now the villain burns, and the hero feels cold.
What is he now?
That is how their story goes. Compassion to austerity, kindness to ferocity, mercy to cruelty.
They have their roles, they play their parts; the hero remembers how it ought to be.
Reunions of murder and manipulation, endangered friends and needless death, and they walk away licking their wounds, awaiting the next.
Intricate plans and reckless heroism, a war of wills and wit and wrath, selflessness against sadism, and they battle until one has given up or saved the other.
Swords flashing and tongues lashing, and it is not blood but passion that stains the memories red.
Agony dealt, vengeance gained, freedom bound; a play of loathing and kinship used to torture the spirit and stay the hand.
A saviour and a slayer, creation and destruction beautifully rendered, lives taken for gain and saved for nothing, and neither understands.
The warmth of hearts and the chill of hearts, beating in dissonance forevermore.
Yet now the villain burns, and the hero feels cold.
What is he now?
