Sparkatale

Arguments, words thrown more fiercely than blows from a sword
Battles, scars to hide and injuries to heal
Death, the nothingness that followed those last few strokes.

Place the blame on who you will
But will it all just fall on me?
And if it does, I guess that's fine.
I know you continue playing your card of falsehood
And perhaps one day flames will make it burn.

No more crimson streams to bathe these wounded limbs
No more navy streaks running down this paled face
No more ruby flickers within these clouded eyes
No more...
No more...
From you I want no more...

To you I was the one who was the hopeless case
Perhaps so.
I never did once argue with you
Until this bitter end
In which was, perhaps long
Overdue...

Love and hate are two polar differences
With barely a grey space in-between
Constant battle
Violent war
Did you notice?
But I don't care anymore.

No.
This is the final.
This is the end.

Can you keep your word
Or
Will I hear
From you

Again?