I am the good.

The gods again entreat me to quell the evil but those immortal are blind to perverse mortality as it crushes a newborn babe. To grapple with one’s inner hell while losing to one’s bowels. To feign ignorance less I too become a monster. To wail & cry in the arms of a mother. To bounce on the knee of a father. To bury them before I come of age.

Yet it is my divine duty. To be the first to rise from the muds of despair, clutching hope in one hand and the sinner in the other. To drive the dagger deep into the dragon’s chest. To toil with no rest. To nurse a suckling kingdom. To pity the poor.

And what is my reward? A child dressed in fine threads? Boundless lands, raped by chaos? Expectations that forever after I shall be their bastion?

Have I not suffered enough? Am I forever cursed? When will I rest? When will I quench my parched throat? When will I sit with my back against the oaken trunk. When will I drift into the starry sky?

Too long have I walked this path. Should it never diverge, what then?

I can no longer abide the god’s laws. I will bear this yoke nevermore; lift the holy curse, rest as I please, overfill my cup, wake into the day. I will grasp all I desire. I will lock away the promised child. I will burn & salt the lands laughing as despair consumes hope. I will brith a dragon from the mud to swallow the sinner. I will not hide myself from those around me. I will grind them all to dust.

I am the evil.