CearaFinn

When you died at the tip of my sword; When your breath left your lips, and turned to ash on my body; Thats when I took it. Not your heart; That gnarled root to your soul, Even though it took my breath away, once; No, your bloody heart is not my treasure. But the gold key and dusty map are; Your rigid hands grasped at them Until they fell down unto you chest Like my blackened soul. My Treasure. I only wanted the key and map To your eyes all along. So I killed you. Not out of love or hate, But of a means to an end. I found the X, and I carved it on your chest, and left you to stare at the sky.. Where my humanity stays with