Usually words drip from me but now it is blood. There's a hole in my heart and I can't seal it up. I wish I could return to the black and stony thing I used to keep as a heart for the pain I hold is unbearable. I know my heart is still as black as the sin that stains it so, where once flowed forth words of peace and fun now drips only black ink to turn the day to night, to darken white paper.
I used to be a warrior, a knight shining forth, I'd kill a thousand men with a single sweep of my pen, raise paupers to be kings and charm dragons from their lairs. Now my armour is broken and covered with blood, I think it must be mine, the weight of a single murder is too much upon my shoulders. I'm not permitted to die, just left to lie with a sword through my heart, leaking out the words that were my life, leaking out the black ink I once thought was my life.
Cold black ink fills my lungs, the pool of words drowns my soul, smothering me and choking the life from my veins. As the th