Divide

Come, my innermost self, let us walk...
Should they not listen... I dare not talk...

I shall not leave... without you at my side...
Your rivers will collide... and your skies... will divide...

When it is so, that you've come to bear...
Angels shall no longer dance... to the songs upon the air...

You will fall... to the resting of your knees...
You will cry... to the falling of your trees...

And when your head rises... once more...
The silent world you once knew... is now in uproar...

Your fears will be many... as they are insane...
Your hopes will be few... as they are in vain...

I shall find you colder... before the end of the third day...
Whisper upon your shoulder... and you shall hear me say...

Come, my innermost self, let us walk...
Should you not listen... I dare not talk...

I shall leave... without you at my side...
Your stories will collide... and your poems... will divide.

Taken

Many greetings, fellow brother in aggression...
I am a thief, quite known for my tasteful discretion...
I come to you in the hopes that I can make a lasting impression...
You see, my friend, I have but a small... distasteful confession...
You have caught my eye, and have tugged at the core of my obsession...
I wish to know the nature of your work... the nature of your profession...

The shadows hide you not, curious thief...
My words with you shall be short-lived and brief...
That which I bring to people... knows no ignorance... and no disbelief...
I am the end to all suffering... the beginning to all relief...
Those left behind shall drown in sorrows... and sulk in their grief...

Ah, you are an assassin... devoid of all emotion... devoid of all fear...
I must say... you have my undivided interest, my fascination ends not here!
Any closer to my heart, be it myself, a victim to you I would volunteer!
If you'll be so good, assassin, a story or two I'd very much like to hear...
It is the very art of your blade that I have yet to pioneer!

Do you not understand... thief? Is it not clear?
Your kind knows not of what the world is like on my frontier...
Before I shed blood... the eye must cry... must shed a tear...
Before I hear screams... the regret is true... ever so sincere...
Before I see the end... the pain is real... and ever so severe...
So spare me of your ridicules, thief! I am not one to revere...

Come now, assassin, you need not hold such unbearable shame,
The world lay before us corrupt and broken, and such we became,
You and I are but the dust in the ash, and it is the ash that is born of flame,
We may not share the one weapon, we may not share the one name,
But look around you, assassin, do you realize now that we are one and the same?

Misguided thief, you're ill understanding of life...
Your words are as loud and empty as a screaming fife!
Replacements for what your hands have taken are many and rife...
Replacements for what my hands have taken end at the means of my knife!