Verse 1:
/
Beneath the shroud of a crimson dusk, he stood,
Bloodied, yet not claimed by death's cold hood.
His hands were bruised, nails torn and frayed,
The weapon dropped, his grasp decayed.
A breath, ragged, found a rhythm slow,
As he sank to earth, surrendering woe.
/
Numbness wrapped his arm, a silent bane,
A wound beyond the touch of bandage's gain.
All he could do was sit and wait,
Amidst the echoes of fate's cruel slate.
The shots, the cries of lives undone—
A slaughter where hope was none.
/
Resigned to die, he knew the end,
Too much blood lost, no mending friend.
No doctor's touch, no healing balm;
He leaned against the tree in calm.
His eyes took in the painted sky,
Where clouds of ash and flame passed by.
/
Beyond the blood-streaked school's old spire,
He saw a girl, a sight so dire.
Draped in black, a veil so thin,
By a nameless grave, mourning within.
Her voice rose soft, a song of woe,
Notes that only the grieving know.
/
With trembling limbs, he crawled through thorn,
Hands raw, mouth bloodied, torn.
He reached her, touched her slender arm,
"Leave, or death will do you harm!"
Unfazed, she sang, her sorrow deep,
A song the earth seemed bound to keep.
/
Her eyes met his, dark and wide,
A gaze that none could brush aside.
"Why are you here?" he begged, breath spent,
Her stare returned, like nightfall, lent.
"I know death waits, yet still I stay,"
Her voice, a whisper's tragic play.
/
Turning back, she resumed her hymn,
A requiem, serene and grim.
The soldier's eyes sought the grave,
A stone unmarked, no name to save.
"Who lies here in nameless rest?"
"A certain soul," she half-confessed.
/
"Do you know the name?" he cried,
"I know it well," she softly sighed.
"Tell me!" he pleaded, weak and worn,
"Why seek names when you're so forlorn?
Why search for meaning as death draws nigh,
When wounds fester and moments fly?"
/
"To know, to ease the restlessness,
To help you flee this wilderness.
A girl so young should not remain,
Amidst war's cruel and bitter reign."
She smiled, yet sorrow dimmed her eyes,
Like twilight wrapping summer skies.
/
"Why fight, if peace is what you crave?"
"For freedom's light, for hope to save.
Our people, crushed beneath the yoke,
We fight, so shackles might be broke."
"Do your beliefs echo your voice,
Or the commands of those with choice?"
/
"For my country, I rise and bleed."
"Do soldiers alone in battle feed?
Or do stray bullets seek the meek,
Unheard cries, the helpless weak?"
"We give warning, twelve hours clear,
Few civilians fall, fate's spear."
/
She rose, a vision crowned in night,
Wings of shadow, feathers bright.
Her touch was cool, a fleeting flame,
Her face both sorrowed and untame.
A tear traced its somber path,
An angel born of love and wrath.
/
He shivered, belief unraveled,
Before this specter, mind unraveled.
A thumb to brow, she breathed,
"Do you seek the name, my soul's bequeathed?"
His pain dissolved, his spirit free,
"Yes, I wish to know," is what said he.
/
His heart fell still; the world withdrew,
And silence, deep and final, grew.
/
Verse 2:
/
In a quiet land where shadows lay,
A town once stood, in modest array.
Not grand, but full of simple grace,
With market, school, and gathering place.
Its people, wrought with faults and pride,
Each bore their burdens, none denied.
/
Save for one, a family rare,
Who came before the drums of war laid bare.
Three souls, steadfast in their tread:
A father, where industry's gears were fed,
A mother, keeper of warmth and hearth,
And a son, Nikita, of uncommon worth.
/
Nikita's mind, a sharpened light,
Excelled through school, through day, through night.
Yet richer still, a bond he grew,
With Maria, steadfast, pure, and true.
Their families, kindred in thought and pain,
Tied by love, by trust's refrain.
/
But in that town of whispered lore,
Suspicion lurked, a sullen core.
Foreign blood marked Nikita's line,
A cause for eyes to narrow, spines to align.
And Maria's kin, though native-born,
Carried beliefs that earned them scorn.
/
Together, their families faced the chill,
The town's disdain, the bitter will.
Yet in their homes, a light shone bright,
Defiant against the coming night.
Maria's brother, young and sweet,
A joy, a solace, laughter's beat.
/
But school, a stage for spite and scorn,
Where Nikita faced each day's thorn.
Insults carved in silence loud,
Mocking jeers from the faceless crowd.
Yet with him stood one unwavering friend,
Leonis, on whom they could depend.
/
When Leonis stood, the tempest ceased,
Hate withdrew, its fury released.
But once he left, the storm returned,
Books thrown, lockers overturned.
Cruel words cut like a hidden knife,
Each day another test of life.
/
One Friday, with sun at noon's descent,
The three found lunch, their brief content.
Leonis, a shield, a silent might,
Made even the boldest refrain from fight.
But as classes shifted, and gym drew near,
Nikita's heart braced for what he feared.
/
Down the stairs, to the dim-lit hall,
He found his locker, a scene of gall.
Clothes strewn, tainted, steeped in spite,
Insults carved in the dim, cold light:
"Die, you foreign wretch," it read,
Words that echoed, dark and dread.
/
With weary hands, he gathered cloth,
Washed them clean, in silent oath.
The acrid stench of fruit, of ale,
Routine suffering, sorrow's tale.
Maria's locker, less defaced,
Gave a moment's bitter grace.
/
Clothes in hand, a sigh subdued,
When there, in the dim, a figure stood.
Leonis, by Maria's space,
Searching, calm, in that bleak place.
"Leonis, what do you seek?" he spoke,
A weary smile, a hope unbroke.
/
"Her gym clothes—she asked, forgot,"
Leonis' answer, measured, taut.
Eyes met Nikita's worn-out view,
"They did it again?" The silence grew.
"As always," came the reply,
A smile that refused to die.
/
"Maria waits; I must away,
We'll meet again at end of day."
And with a nod, Leonis strode,
Up the stairs, where daylight glowed.
Nikita, resolute, turned as well,
Back to class, where shadows fell.
/
The school bell rang, the sun sank low,
The three set off, where streets would flow.
Nikita's home, the nearest stand,
Left the others hand in hand.
Maria sighed, voice low, confined,
"It's hard to bear, the cruel unkind."
/
Leonis smiled, though eyes grew grave,
A kindness masked, a silence brave.
"Oh, truly?" came his gentle jest,
A question hiding something pressed.
"Leonis, your sacrifice is great,
A friend who guards against their hate."
/
Leonis paused, a thought withheld,
A fleeting shadow, emotion quelled.
"For you, tenfold would I bear,"
He spoke, with voice that lingered there.
"Really, for us?" Maria sighed,
"You need not suffer, not be tied."
/
"... I have no words, or only few."
"But to my delight, you'd choose this fight."
A nod, a smile, in evening's light.
"No thanks, it's natural, what friends do.
And an invitation I shall extend to you
A night, a stay, a game or two?"
/
"I'm sorry, Leonis, I've promised him,
A night with Nikita, till stars grow dim."
"Ah, then next time, another day,"
He nodded, turned, and slipped away.
Maria watched, beneath the sky,
Where secrets deep and silent lie.
/
Those are masks, that people wear,
Their true intentions don't dare to share.
/
Verse 3:
/
A voice like spring on winter's brink,
Maria ran, cheeks flushed with pink.
Friday's eve, a common rite,
Where warmth dispelled the world's long night.
Clouds in the sky, slightly gray,
Days to be clear, so to say.
/
Nikita's heart leapt at the sight,
Table set, the lights shine bright.
A supper spread, a simple feast,
Where love and laughter never ceased.
Tradition bound them, week by week,
Moments sweet, no words could speak.
/
"Maria, you're late, I feared the wait!
What reason made you come so late?"
Eyes averted, a blush's trace,
And whispered words with a bashful face:
"Homework, Monday's looming dread—
'No leaving,' my parents said."
/
"Is that what they claimed?
A relief! Your arrival, gone, I feared!"
Smile bright wide, eyes so kind.
She nodded, shy, fingers twined.
"Mother told, you wouldn't like a girl
With thoughts untamed, an unlearned pearl."
/
Laughter spilled like a song set free,
"That's lies, Maria, don't you see?
I cherish you as you are, and more,
Nothing could change the love I store."
A kiss to her brow, a hand held tight,
"Come now, supper waits, warm with light."
/
The evening glowed with voices bright,
A shared meal, reason for delight,
Shared tales of youth, scholar days,
While mother's laughter wove a gentle praise.
Her eyes, deep pools of tender care,
A gaze that watched, a love laid bare.
/
Food was savored, stories spun,
Until the meal's last course was done.
Then off they went, in secret thrall,
To the room where dreams were ever small.
Nikita unveiled a newfound prize:
"Look, Maria, a game for the wise!"
/
"'Emperor's Grasp,'" he read aloud,
"One shall flee while pride grows proud.
Each turn a test, each move a fate,
Escape, or bow to the Emperor's weight."
She clenched the dice with a fervent smile,
"Ought to break this Emperor's cruel trial!"
/
Hours slipped on, laughter and sighs,
Until sleep's gentle call drew nigh.
Nikita's voice, playful, mocked,
"Only I escaped! Fate has knocked!"
Arms cast round her, embrace so light,
"Next time, Maria, we'll take that flight."
/
She laughed, "What tale shall we weave anew?
Two spirits reborn, love's fate to sew?"
"Improbable," he jested, eyes aglow,
"But lovely. Yes, we'll find a way to go."
Sleep claimed them, dreams shared in kind,
Of escapes, of futures yet to find.
/
Morning broke, a gentle hum,
Maria stirred as daylight strummed.
Through breakfast chatter and playful cheer,
Time fled fast, the afternoon near.
She stood, departure in her eyes,
"Till next time, under starlit skies."
/
Embrace exchanged, a kiss so light,
Parents waved in the waning light.
"See you soon," she called with mirth,
As if parting were a simple dearth.
Around the bend, she disappeared,
A farewell brief, no one feared.
/
Back inside, the hour grew late,
The family gathered, hearts sedate.
The glow of screens, familiar tune,
A comedy show that lifted gloom.
But peace was fractured, smiles undone,
When the broadcast turned, dread begun.
/
"Attention all," the voice declared,
"Our neighbors' wrath, their armies bared.
At three this day, they spoke with might,
War's grim shadow blots the light.
Border towns, seek shelter's shroud,
From skies where thunder walks aloud.
/
Industrial beacons, marked for fire,
Keep distance, till troops conspire.
Stay calm, be strong, this common plight,
Shall bind us all, and steel the fight."
Darkness crept as silence fell,
Wind's sharp breath, a storm's foretell.
/
Eyes met eyes, unspoken fears,
The end of peace, the birth of tears.
/
Verse 4:
/
The sky turned ink, the wind a sigh,
A warning whispered through on high.
Dark clouds draped the final light,
A moon concealed, a shrouded night.
Was this a prelude, fate's cruel jest?
A calm before the storm's unrest?
/
Nikita lay, limbs weary, worn,
A day so strange, so newly torn.
War, a distant, dire word,
Yet in his heart, a shadow stirred.
Why did worry gnaw so deep,
When safety's promise lulled to sleep?
/
Maria, Leonis—anchors of thought,
In them, all his solace wrought.
A small bear clutched, white as frost,
Childish comfort, never lost.
If shame was named, he would not care;
He'd borne much worse in trials unfair.
/
A sound below, a sudden gust,
Glass shards cracked, a scent of rust.
Eyes half-lidded, a window's creak—
Hand groped blind, mind still weak.
A glimmer, crimson on the sill,
A drop that fell, so stark, so still.
/
Awake now, senses struck alive,
Shattered glass, a flame's bright dive.
Nightclothes fluttered as he fled,
Feet rushed where terrors tread.
Parents pressed against the door,
Faces strained, hearts at war.
/
"Niki, they're coming, hear them roar!
We've held them, but they clamor more."
Torches rose in a fiery arc,
Stones and shouts, a wild spark.
Glass exploded, oil's hiss,
Flames leapt, a blistered kiss.
/
Pain seared sharp, a scream unfurled,
Eyes met eyes, his fragile world.
"Run, Nikita!" Mother's tone,
Soft and firm, a love full-grown.
"Go now, wait at Maria's gate.
We'll come, my son, we won't be late."
/
He nodded, words a fleeting gust,
A smile of faith, of endless trust.
"I'll wait, we'll leave, escape this night,
Together bound, we'll take to flight."
Feet flew fast through alley's maze,
Behind him, fire, a ghastly blaze.
/
Knuckles raw on Maria's door,
A trembling voice, a plea's implore.
Her mother's eyes, first drowsed and then
Wide with shock, the story's ken.
"Nikita, child, what brings this fright?
Why stand you here in this moonless night?"
/
"Our house—fire, a crowd outside.
They came, they stormed, my parents bide."
"Your parents? Where are they now?"
"With me soon… They promised—somehow."
Brows furrowed deep, the question's weight,
"Why wait? What held them at the gate?"
/
Hands fidgeted, fear uncoiled,
"They barred the door, our things they toiled."
Maria's voice, a sudden shout,
"What's going on? What's this about?"
"I have a feeling that this is fate,
a premonition, though it might be late."
/
"I must go back," Nikita cried,
A pulse that pulled, a pain that pried.
Maria's mother, firm resolve,
"Grab your coat; this must be solved."
But Nikita turned, feet swift, lone,
Driven by a dread unknown.
/
Smoke curled high, a twisted mark,
A beacon in the starless dark.
Crowds poured in, a sea of faces,
Strangers' voices, familiar traces.
Feet—dozens, hundreds more,
Students, neighbors, silent corps.
/
What drew them out, what beckoned here,
In numbers vast, with eyes austere?
Hidden, still, he watched them pass,
A tide of bodies, a moving mass.
Breath tight, he darted on,
Hope a flicker, near to gone.
/
There he stood, the house, the flame,
Silhouettes swaying, whisper's claim.
A tree, a symbol, a cruel jest,
Two ropes held sway, in final rest.
Leaves fluttered, an eerie chant,
Back and forth, a dance's slant.
/
Knees met ground, a heart's collapse,
Wind's cruel hand, a silent clasp.
Parents hung, their faces pale,
Caught by fate's unyielding gale.
/
Verse 5:
/
The storm loomed on, heavy and unkind,
A force of nature that mirrored the mind.
Bruised bodies, burnt, torn apart,
Blood pooled where life did part.
Crimson streams traced battered skin,
The marks of rage from those within.
Faces, marred, once known and dear,
Now hollow masks of pain and fear.
/
Nikita's trembling hands found feet,
Cold and broken, defeat complete.
"We'll escape together," a hollow refrain,
Echoed now in blood's dark stain.
Promises whispered, fragile as air—
What weight had words in such despair?
/
Up the tree with a feral will,
Hands tore at knots, fingers still.
Wood bit back, nails gave way,
Red dripped where life held sway.
Finally, ropes fell loose at last,
Two bodies thudded, future past.
/
He climbed down, heart cracked wide,
Cradled them close, side by side.
Tears fell, rain followed suit,
Washing away the blood's tribute.
Fire shrank, a dying beast,
Yet in his chest, pain increased.
/
"Why?" The question, sharp and raw,
Hung in silence, without a law.
Why did fate bear such a hand,
Why must he alone withstand?
Sight blurred, vision gone,
All reason, all hope withdrawn.
/
Footsteps, faint in rain's soft drum,
Maria and her mother come.
Dread on faces, words unsaid,
Gazed upon the broken, the dead.
Maria stepped, fire at her feet,
Heat's last breath, ash's retreat.
/
From debris, she plucked a token,
A bear, scorched yet unbroken.
Into her pocket, a silent pledge,
A promise, sharp as a razor's edge.
"We must go," her mother's plea,
To a boy who no longer could see.
/
Nikita did not move, did not blink,
Clung to shadows, on grief's brink.
Maria's voice, a gentle sound,
Lay beside him, arms around.
"Come back, please," a whispered bind,
Called to the shards of his shattered mind.
/
His frame, lifeless, found her hold,
Arms moved as the storm grew cold.
Steps followed, one by one,
Like a puppet under the moon's pale sun.
A wanderer in death's domain,
Walking blind through silent pain.
/
Eyes in shadow, hidden and sly,
Watched as ghosts of the night went by.
The house stood, a beacon faint,
Maria's father's eyes, etched with restraint.
Nikita sat, where wood met ground,
Silent, lost, without a sound.
/
Sleep claimed him, restless, grim,
Dreams where fire danced on a whim.
He woke in fits, soaked in dread,
Maria beside, nothing said.
Tears welled, a torrent fierce,
A flood through wounds too deep to pierce.
/
Clinging tight, he let them fall,
Each drop an echo, each cry a call.
Morning rose, pale and wan,
Maria's parents sent their son,
Far away, where safety lay,
With a bear, a fragment of yesterday.
/
Nikita sat in muted gray,
Words left him, voice astray.
Only to Maria did he speak,
In whispers, broken, weak.
The storm above, unyielding, strong,
Brooded, waiting, before the throng.
/
Verse 6:
/
He couldn't sleep; it wasn't his fault,
Tragic events gathered, a merciless halt.
Fear of darkness, relentless and vast,
Memories of loss, shadows cast.
That night he let sleep drag him deep,
A night when his parents were stolen in sleep.
/
Darkness offered no mercy, no reprieve,
Only flickers of light that deceived.
Torches, eyes, in a fabric of black,
Warnings that seared, compassion lacked.
Spiteful eyes, hatred masked,
Actions cowardly, questions unasked.
/
What cowardice, what injustice, raw,
What inhumanity wrapped in flawed law.
Bound by excuses, in bondage they stood,
Claiming virtue misunderstood.
What joy did they seek, what hollow claim?
Slaying innocents without name.
/
Hate brewed by baseless unity,
Not human, an animal's cruelty.
No, worse than beasts, it must be said,
For beasts kill for survival, well-fed.
Humans, alike in form and face,
Doomed by birthplace, bound by space.
/
These deeds, only one name bore: Demonic,
Wounds carved deep, sharp and chronic.
Nikita's mind spun, hate unfurled,
But Maria's touch, a balm to his world.
Her presence, calm, accepting the grief,
A tether to peace, a moment of relief.
/
This was his wish, a world of light,
Free from darkness, pure and bright.
Where evil's grasp failed to take,
Where the rotten faced their own break.
But doubt lingered, would purity stay,
If the impure were swept away?
/
Yes, for those loved, the price he'd bear,
Even if rotted, he'd take the snare.
And so, at last, he tried to rest,
With thoughts of love, heart compressed.
Dawn's glow, his eyes fell closed,
In Maria's care, his spirit dozed.
/
Fate, wicked, spun its thread,
Dice cast, terror widespread.
Sweet as lavender's breath at times,
Or foul as rot, with twisted rhymes.
Or like smoke, flames nearing fast,
A vision of hell in shadows cast.
/
Burning scents woke Nikita's fear,
A march of lights, footsteps near.
He screamed, a night relived in dread,
Maria startled, leapt from bed.
Through the window, her pulse turned ice,
The march returned, a living vice.
/
Pounding fists, threats resound,
A battering ram, splintering sound.
"Maria, hide!" her father's roar,
Urgent, sharp, no time for more.
Her mother's shove, a frantic shove,
Into the closet, in desperate love.
/
Through the keyhole, Maria peered,
The door shattered, invaders neared.
One shout: "They sheltered a spy!"
Maria's father, steadfast, replied:
"This is a child, he cannot be—"
"Complicit! With parents, treachery!"
/
The mob, unmoved, bloodthirsty and wild,
Brought crosses to bear, rage defiled.
Fists struck, bodies fell,
Nikita roared, fury's spell.
"Kill you all, for those slain before!"
They mocked, beat, spilled him to the floor.
/
A dagger's thrust, a crimson tide,
Strength faded, wounds open wide.
Laughter echoed, they departed,
Maria ran, broken-hearted.
"Nikita, stay awake!" she pleaded,
But life in his gaze receded.
/
Steps, Leonis came, new hope formed,
Maria pleads: "Leonis, we were stormed!
Save his life! Be a friend!
Save him from this bitter end!"
Demeanor changed, a evil smile
"I refuse", words hard and vile.
/
His followers had pinned her down,
Clenched her dress, colors brown,
Rough hands tore, cruelty unbound,
Nikita rose, beaten down.
Leonis sneered, "You were in my way,
Now nothing stops my desired play."
/
Pain, horror, cries of despair,
Maria's screams, Nikita's blare,
Fists found their goal, effect brought,
Darkness took him, silence wrought.
Awoke to quiet, a grotesque dawn,
Crusted blood, Maria gone.
/
Out he crawled, trembled, aghast,
Saw the crosses, saviors passed.
Bodies stabbed, lifeless, marred,
Maria laid, dignity scarred.
Tainted body, raped till dawn
Her beauty, innocence, all gone.
Embraced her form, cold and still,
Tears fell, sorrow's chill.
/
He bit his tongue, pain and hate,
Cried out in grief, sealed his fate.
His scream, tearing the night,
Echoing the name of the mite.
/
Verse 7:
/
Beneath a sky of sable shroud,
Where tempests' roars had once been loud,
The storm now hushed, and rain's descent
Poured in streams, a somber lament.
Nikita, cloaked in morning's chill,
Stood by the grave, steady, still.
/
With tender hands, he placed with care
Two lifeless forms, a broken pair.
He laid them down, eyes gently closed,
In earth where silent grief reposed.
Above them, Maria found her place,
Wrapped in her parents' final embrace.
/
Tainted by other's lust, bitter breath,
He hoped their love to surpass death.
Endless, pure, it would remain,
Beyond the bounds of loss and pain.
Rain filled the grave, a weeping sky,
Mixed with blood's last, crimson cry.
/
Nikita sat, a shadow cast,
A soul marooned by sorrow's blast.
To wish for joy—a small demand—
Was that too much for fate's cruel hand?
What sin had drawn this wretched thread,
To weave the path where others bled?
/
Memory's light now dimmed, defiled,
Dreams undone, fate's fragile child.
A hollow shell, bereft, bereaved,
Where future hopes had once believed.
With trembling grasp, he took the spade,
Each motion marked, each memory weighed.
/
Earth concealed his dear ones' form,
As love succumbed to nature's storm.
At last, a patch of earth unfilled,
Maria's face, both pale and stilled.
He placed a flower, one last grace,
Before earth's shroud concealed her face.
/
No name, no mark, no carving shown,
Only a stone, unfeeling, lone.
He turned toward streets of shadowed dread,
Where silent fears and mistrust spread.
In alleys dark, unseen he moved,
By those who once his fate reproved.
/
To the ruin of his home he came,
Where embers slept in dampened flame.
There his parents lay in peace,
Cleansed by rain from blood's caprice.
He traced their forms, cold and stark,
A touch that bore love's silent mark.
/
"Forgive me, Father, Mother kind,
For leaving you in storm behind.
Out of love, you bid me flee,
But love, too, meant you'd come with me.
Had we escaped as one that night,
Fate might not bear its grisly blight.
/
Maria's smile would not be lost,
Nor our dreams at such cruel cost."
A grave he dug with aching hands,
A place to rest in earth's demands.
To their side, he placed relics dear,
Covered all with tender fear.
/
"The world," he whispered, hushed, alone,
"Is gray today, so monotone."
/
A shadow passed; he shrank from sight,
A figure gleamed beneath moon's light.
Recognition flared—rage unbound,
A specter of the past he'd found.
Yet anger stilled, by purpose led,
He trailed in silence, shadow-fed.
/
To a house beneath starlit air,
Where grief turned into wrath's dark prayer.
Through the glass, he glimpsed the scene,
Recordings played, cruel and obscene.
Then came a voice, familiar, torn—
"Please, no more," Maria's mourn.
/
Rage erupted, cold and bright,
Mind consumed by vengeful blight.
The door gave way, silent, wide,
Nikita stepped, fury his guide.
A knife, swift as midnight's call,
Struck the victim—death's sudden thrall.
/
The parents' cries in horror swept,
Swiftly, too, to silence crept.
Not for blood, but truth's pursuit,
He knelt beside the lifeless brute.
"What vision saw you, what did I lack,
What darkened wisdom drew me back?"
/
Hands trembling, he plucked an eye,
Pressed it to his own, to pry.
Agony's cry, piercing deep,
Brought no sight, no truth to keep.
Blind, he groped for sense once more,
Cast the stolen eye to floor.
Returned his own with shaking breath,
Found nothing changed but madness' death.
/
In his left, the night's abyss,
In his right, a death's grim kiss.
The body thrashed, no thought but ire,
A soul engulfed by murder's desire.
/
Verse 8:
/
Through streets where shadows clung and crept,
Nikita moved, where silence wept.
An industrial quarter, dark and deep,
Where violence prowled and death might leap.
The moon hung high in midnight's reign,
Casting silver across the bane.
/
Abandoned halls, grim with blight,
Loomed in the fog of endless night.
Yet fear was foreign, gone, replaced—
A numbness worn, a dream misplaced.
Forward he stumbled, through alleys stark,
To a hollow room, forgotten, dark.
/
Inside, men sat in murk and grime,
The ones he sought, in measured time.
He paused, a breath of cold respect:
"Good evening, all," his voice direct.
A single voice cut back the air:
"Who comes, intruder, unaware?"
/
"A nameless soul with tasks to see,
A business call, now let it be."
"A child, a fool, with grown men here?
Leave now, lest you disappear."
"Do you reject a client's need?
You bear a name, a crime indeed."
/
"Exactly so, now heed our cry—
We live as marked, and so may die.
Leave now, boy; turn, be gone,
For fate like ours is not yet drawn."
"I know this fate, yet still I stand;
I did not come to seek your hand."
/
"Child, begone! You should be far,
With those in flight, not here in war."
"What binds me to their timid run?"
"You're known to us, a student, one
Who carries grief too dark, too wild,
Too lost to see, a vengeful child."
/
"I will not deny that truth of mine;
Now take me to your lead divine."
"Impossible, we cannot grant this whim—
A child with weapons? Heart grows dim."
"Ah, what irony unfolds tonight,
Thieves concerned for wrong and right.
/
Criminal, yet with noble grace,
A contradiction in this place."
"We have our codes; we're not but beasts,
Though hunted still, by law policed."
"Trust me, I say; I beg your trust,
For what I need is more than just."
/
"No matter—leave!" They raised the call,
Till from the dark, a voice did fall.
"I'll allow it," slow and low,
From shadowed doors, a figure's glow.
A slender form with a gaze of steel,
The leader came, and all did kneel.
/
"Hello, young guest, now speak your plea;
What purpose draws you here to me?
A word, a strike, an order named?
A ghost to haunt? A life to claim?"
The smile was warm, the tone benign;
Nikita stared, in eyes to mine.
/
Eyes that held a hollow space,
Where loneliness wore its mirrored face.
This leader, too, beneath his mask,
Wore grief as armor, questions unasked.
"I greet you, chief of local fame,
May I inquire your proper name?"
/
"That name stays buried, safe from calls—
Too many secrets in these walls."
"So be it then, my word remains.
I seek two things; my purpose pains:
Addresses of a few I chase,
And weapons for my hand's embrace."
/
The leader's brow arched, shadows played:
"Payment first, as dues are paid."
Nikita cast a pendant bright,
A gem that caught the room's pale light.
"Well, well, this jewel could fetch a score—
Where did you claim such treasure's lore?"
/
"I took it in a night's swift fall."
"A thief as well—yet here we stall.
The guns you'll have, the price in place,
But not the names, for hearts I brace."
"Yet, leader, you must understand,
This term is part, at my demand."
/
With steps drawn close, a threat took shape;
Nikita's gaze let no one escape.
"You see, to bar my path means death—
An end to each, a silenced breath."
A guard's hand gripped, harsh and tight,
"Back, or face the fight tonight!"
/
A flash of steel, a scarlet arc,
A life undone, the room turned dark.
Gasps and rage, the men prepared,
But the leader's voice called, cold and bared:
"That's enough, all stand aside;
The terms are met, no wrath shall bide."
/
Cases brought, a book laid down,
As silence weighed, heavy, round.
"I thank you, chief, this task complete;
My word upheld, I take my leave."
Into the night, he moved once more,
Swallowed by the fog's thick lore.
/
The leader sat, a cigarette lit,
The smoke and silence slowly knit.
"Why, chief, did you give in so?"
The right-hand man, voice hushed, asked low.
The leader's eyes met the sky's far sheen:
"That boy held something I had seen.
/
When I saw his gaze, one black as night,
The other burned with a lethal light.
I felt it—deep, a violent flame,
A hunger forged from grief and shame.
I knew the weight, the hollow core,
The drive to rise, to seek once more.
/
No chain, no blow, could hold him down;
He'd rise, relentless, for revenge's crown.
In him, a shadowed echo stirred—
A mirror where our souls conferred.
Me and him... not far apart,
Bound by wounds, a severed heart.
/
Yet this escape, this futile race,
Will carve no joy, leave no trace.
The deeper he walks that path of pain,
The deeper darkness stakes its claim.
I wish he'd see, before too late,
This flight from fate is a woven gate.
/
Alone, you're not truly freed—
Alone, you're bound by your own deed."
The wind returned, wild and vast,
Whispering tales of storms long past.
/
Verse 9:
/
A crimson path through silent night,
House to house, devoid of light.
Nikita moved, a shadow's grace,
Vengeance carved on every face.
For sins committed, they must pay,
Innocent blood was met this way.
/
No excuse, no plea to make,
Each step forward, each breath he'd take.
One shot, one life, soundless doom,
Justice settled in the gloom.
Yet why, with each deed done,
Did his unrest never come undone?
/
It was for his mother, for father's woe,
For Maria, whose loss did grow.
None would flee, none would stray,
Justice claimed its right of way.
But strangers' faces, unfamiliar, pale,
Stirred doubts that began to wail.
/
Were these people marked by sin?
Or by cruel fate's mere whim?
No, their guilt, he vowed, was clear,
Justice's path must not veer.
Another shot, another sigh,
In crimson silence, lives would lie.
/
Mothers, fathers, children too,
He remembered their cruelty, deep and true.
Echoes of school where he once bled,
Mocking whispers, hopes long dead.
And Leonis, that face so sly,
Who hid betrayal, who spun the lie.
/
Leonis, the source of broken trust,
In him, revenge was more than just.
Pain, he swore, would mirror back,
The torment of memory's track.
Shot by shot, his mission ran,
Yet shadows deepened, shook the man.
/
Why Maria, radiant, pure?
Why not him, who could endure?
She, the last fragile thread,
Shattered before him, stained and dead.
Now to the mayor's lair of vice,
A haven built of greed and lies.
/
In chambers decked with pride and gold,
Where darkness made its silent hold,
Nikita crept, resolve turned stone,
To judge corruption on its throne.
The mayor lay in tranquil sleep,
Bliss untouched by secrets deep.
/
With one soft breath, his wife was gone,
Nikita stood, his rage withdrawn.
The mayor startled, reeled, and wept,
As through the dark, death's silence crept.
Nikita whispered, bitter and cold,
"Now face the truth your schemes foretold."
/
Pleas fell, empty, into night's void,
Words of bribes, of power deployed.
Nikita scoffed, disdain so sharp,
"Your wealth, it stains; your soul, so dark.
Freedom bought with tainted coin,
Binds the chains it seeks to join."
/
Dragged to the dew-drenched ground,
The mayor quivered, without sound.
"Your greed disgusts, your coward's plea,
Dies here tonight, stripped of dignity."
One final shot, a whispered close,
In dawn's embrace, a shadow rose.
/
With blood-stained mask and weary gaze,
Nikita moved, lost in haze.
He had to reach where it began,
The school, the place that bred the man.
Welding bars, sealing fate,
Iron gate, no escape.
/
Steps resounded, resolute and slow,
Into the silent corridors' glow.
Cases set, eyes found rest,
Maria's face, a silent guest.
"Tomorrow, Maria, justice's call,
Your stolen honor, reclaimed for all."
/
Storm winds screamed, darkness spread,
Trees uprooted, silence fled.
Nature's wrath echoed his strife,
A city swept, devoid of life.
And as the storm's last breath grew near,
Death's shadow settled, stark and clear.
/
Verse 10:
/
Awake from restless, fleeting sleep,
Nikita rose, as screams did seep.
Pistol drawn with practiced aim,
A girl fell silent, life's brief flame.
Eyes turned blank, a body stilled,
Vengeance taken, justice fulfilled.
/
Her lifeless form he grimly scanned,
A tormentor's blood upon his hand.
Memory surged, his purpose woke,
The torment long before he broke.
Weapon armed, he made his way,
To hallways draped in pale dismay.
/
High on the stairs, he cast his gaze,
Over students wrapped in panic's haze.
"Look, the foreigner!" someone cried,
"We killed his parents!" their word denied.
A shot rang out, the speaker fell,
Silent now, as panic's knell.
/
Chaos surged, the crowd dissolved,
In frenzied paths, their lives revolved.
Once fearless, bold, they now recoiled,
As the predator they scorned uncoiled.
What fitting irony, Nikita mused,
Those once so mighty, now accused.
/
The welded doors denied escape,
His voice cut sharp, a searing drape:
"Murderers, listen and cower here!
Your past returns, your greatest fear.
None may flee this final game,
Face me now or wear your shame."
/
Bullets sang, bodies dropped,
Panicked steps, his fire never stopped.
Their laughter once, at his expense,
Now melted in the blood-soaked sense.
Power surged with each clear shot,
A retribution that they'd forgot.
/
Yet mercy whispered, strange, unsure,
For his justice, though harsh, seemed pure.
Their cruelty left him on the brink,
A twisted echo, made him think.
But no remorse stayed his hand,
Vengeance bound by fate's demand.
/
Descending the stairwell, shadows deep,
Nikita found familiar faces, cowed in heap.
A sinister smile, his slow advance,
Their silent terror met his glance,
His boundless hatred's drive
For death made him strive.
/
A teacher stepped forth, a desperate plea,
"Stop! They're young, let mercy be!
Their deeds were cruel, but life holds grace;
Murder won't redeem this place!"
His laughter ceased, gaze turned steel,
Her chin caught in a vice-like feel.
/
"Shame? You speak of shame?" he said,
"Next time, act—don't turn your head.
Rot clings to all who merely stare,
Silent watchers, complicit glare."
A sudden strike, a pipe raised high,
But Nikita's hand was fast, reply—
/
A shot, a fall, silence broke,
Terror gripped as death awoke.
"Reflect on guilt, your lost pretense;
Next time think, but there's no suspense."
Another echo, another end,
Horror painted on fate's bend.
/
"Line up," his voice, sharp command,
Fear obeyed as if by hand.
"Step aside, the innocent true,
But guilt, I know, runs deep in you."
One boy stood, alone, confessed,
While others watched, their hope suppressed.
/
"Only one who pleaded guilt?", voice raised,
He took his shots, only one lived, dazed.
"Do you admit your sins?" Nikita spoke,
A nod, a stammer, spirit broke.
"I'm guilty, yes, of all my wrongs,
Please, forgive where remorse belongs."
/
A fleeting warmth in Nikita's eyes,
"Your honesty deserves no lies."
The pistol raised, a shot rang bright,
Quick death granted, extinguished light.
Respect, a gift he seldom gave,
For one brave enough his sins to brave.
/
Through endless halls, with lifeless stares,
Nikita walked through his despairs.
How many fell beneath his hand,
Hundreds, countless, by his stand?
Yet still, his soul was far from whole,
Memories churned, a bitter toll.
/
By the lockers, ghosts of time,
Etched in metal, grime, and grime.
Maria's name, in shadow cast,
Her laughter now a haunted past.
"If only," whispered, low and deep,
Tears unbidden, grief's keen seep.
/
A sudden flash, a dagger's bite,
Spun around in fading light.
Two shots fired, the girl laid bare,
Blood smeared Maria's locker there.
Clutching pain, a shadow came,
A voice that hissed and spat his name.
/
"Out of rounds, your fate now calls,
No way out, these final halls."
Hatred swelled, the storm confined,
The voice, it mocked, so well-defined.
Nikita snarled, eyes ablaze,
"Leonis," echoed, crossed their ways.
/
Verse 11:
/
Amid the dim-lit hall, Nikita's glare,
Eight on the stairs, blocking air.
Seven shots, one blade's last breath,
A gamble poised with fate and death.
Two girls, six men, the odds weren't fair,
Yet Leonis hid, a coward's lair.
A master of masks, a puppeteer,
Safe behind those driven by fear.
/
Nikita crept from shadow's veil,
Into a room where hope could trail.
Glass and beakers, tools unknown,
The fate of freedom, seeds were sown.
Bromine's ampule, a lethal find,
An oxygen bomb, a desperate mind.
/
Hands trembled, breath sharp, tight,
A battle waiting, night's last fight.
A sudden lunge, a foe's wild might,
A knee struck deep, a vicious bite.
A knife flashed true, a life cut short,
In silence broken, a grim report.
/
Gun in hand, Nikita braced,
One shot, one chance, none misplaced.
Ampule hurled, a shot rang clear,
First missed wide, second near.
Third hit true, the shatter's call,
Liquid spilled, a toxic pall.
/
Screams erupted, sight and skin,
Terror unleashed from within.
"Eyes, my eyes!" voices tore,
As Nikita surged, seeking war.
Air tight, steel kissed lip,
Through fumes he strode, no stumble, no slip.
/
Up the stairs, through flame and cry,
His wound, bloodied, open pry,
In hidden passage, he took a gun anew
Poisoned by his own pursue
Down the steps, anger high,
Past the fallen, past the lie.
/
Blood like rivers traced his way,
A grim parade at break of day.
The basement's door, Leonis' den,
A scene obscene, bereft of men.
Woman shrieked, pale with dread,
Nikita's gaze, the living dead.
/
The lady pleaded, desperate cry:
"Leonis save me, my end is nigh!"
"Yes, Leonis, save her now,
Like those you vowed and yet disavow."
A scoff, a smirk, a callous game,
She was an object, not a name.
/
A shot rang out, the girl's fall,
A body still in the bloodied hall.
"So, it's us," Nikita said,
A vow fulfilled, a demon fed.
"Oh, Nikita," Leonis sighed,
Mockery thick, with venom tied.
/
Shots to legs, a jagged howl,
Writhing serpent, defiant scowl.
"Why, why, the deeds so vile?
Why Maria, why defile?
Why betray us, twist the knife?
What fueled your need, that shattered life?"
/
Leonis gasped, blood from his feet,
Sank down, laughing, voice bittersweet.
"Obvious, wasn't it?" he said,
"Beauty claimed, desires fed.
You, Nikita, mere toys, mere tools,
Danced so well, obeyed my rules.
/
Maria clung to you, stubborn and proud,
Made it fun, dark, allowed."
A laugh burst out, wild and raw,
Nikita's rage without a flaw.
Gun to head, Leonis jeered,
"Kill me quick? Is that what's feared?
/
Show me tricks, dance in your hate!"
A punch, blood spilled, twisted fate.
Coughs of red, a sickened choke,
Vomit and bile, madness spoke.
A bench, torn, nails rust-stained,
A glove pierced, malice uncontained.
/
Leonis limp, will erased,
Nikita moved, vengeance faced.
By the girl, head severed clean,
Held in hand, a grisly scene.
Glove pulled tight, steel and dread,
Closer he walked, eyes ahead.
/
"Enjoy your lover, beast, take this,
Kiss her cold, in death's abyss.
Like Maria, false your vow,
Taste the corpse, embrace it now."
Nails pressed flesh, open wound,
Blood sprayed wild, crimson tuned.
/
Leonis laughed, crazed, unfazed,
Echoes dark, terror raised.
Fingers snapped, one by one,
Bones broke slow, pain begun.
Leonis breathed, final jest,
"Done so well, like the rest.
/
The circle of sins, there's no escape,
From Emperor's grasp, fate's evil shape.
You're trapped, Nikita, don't you see?
Murderer's fate, it clings, won't free.
Innocent blood, this room, this night,
The girl you killed, blind by my light.
/
Puppets moved by my dark creed,
All obeyed my cursed need."
Nikita's stare, cold resolve,
Gun aimed, fate to dissolve.
"Pull the trigger, end our strife,
But you'll find no peace, no life.
/
You and I, not different from far,
Murderers, that's our common call."
Bang resounded, final breath,
Leonis slumped, undone by death.
Storm stilled, winds lost sound,
And Nikita stood, blood profound.
/
Reflection there, in crimson spread,
The hunter mirrored in the dead.
Storm gave way, dawn drew near,
But freedom's cost—an end to fear.
/
Verse 12:
/
Footsteps faint, an echo's call,
Splashes of crimson, liquid's sprawl.
A knife in hand, its edge runs deep,
A killer's mark, a soul asleep.
Unrhythmic steps, an absent gait,
A hollow man resigns to fate.
/
Around the corner, creeping slow,
Toward the stairs, where shadows grow.
A hull remains, no will, no flame,
A ghostly shade, devoid of name.
His hands, they trace the school's façade,
And every touch, the walls are marred.
/
The paint, once strong, now peels away,
Concrete smooth beneath decay.
A normal wall, its truth laid bare,
A false veneer that none could care.
The steps he climbs, so long, so steep,
Each blemish shows, no secrets keep.
/
The crooked rails, the jagged seams,
Revealed now clear in shattered dreams.
The weight has lifted—fear, regret,
Yet emptiness lingers, a quiet threat.
The stairs, once swift, now stretch so long,
Each step a verse to sorrow's song.
/
The hall awaits, in mist enshrined,
Its silence heavy, undefined.
The bodies strewn, a carpet red,
A tapestry of the countless dead.
Through stifling air, his steps persist,
A prison forged, by his own fist.
/
He leans against the sealed doorway,
A fate self-sown, no words convey.
"Leonis, why? What made you fall?
What called you to this fatal thrall?
Did you decide, or fate decree,
To bind your will, to set you free?"
/
His whispers fade, the air grows still,
A morning breeze, a creeping chill.
The wound it stings, yet pales in weight,
To Maria's loss, a heavier fate.
The silence breaks—a cry, so small,
A young girl's tears within the hall.
/
A plush she clutches, pure and white,
A fragile shard of untamed light.
"Come closer, child," his voice implores,
"I'm no demon, no evil roars.
Fear not my face, nor crimson guise,
Do not defile your tender eyes."
/
She steps in fear, yet moves to trust,
To seek in ruin a hope robust.
She pulls his coat, with trembling plea,
"Please help, I'm scared—don't leave me be."
Her words, they shake his empty frame,
His heart beats, now doused in shame.
/
"Close your eyes, trust just this once,
Block the world, its cruel affronts."
The gun roars thrice, the weld it breaks,
The battered door gives as he aches.
He calls her forth, the sun now near,
Its rays dissolve the clinging fear.
/
"Run, dear child, don't look behind,
Seek your home, your peace, your kind.
Remember all, but forget my name,
Leave me here, to bear the blame."
She turns, a fleeting smile bestowed,
"Thank you, sir, for the path you showed.
/
I'm Elena, I'll return to save—
Wait for me, you'll not stay grave."
He watched her go, her words a sting
"Forget me child, I'm no sainted thing."
Stumbling beneath the morning sun,
Its rays, threads of fate he has spun.
/
Through shadowed hills, it softly crept,
A golden promise where darkness slept.
His left eye caught the tender glow,
A light within his heart's deep woe.
So bright, so pure, it pierced the night,
Through darkened depths, it brought him sight.
/
Tears welled and fell, but stilled his pace,
A quiet march to that known place.
The path ahead, though scarred and torn,
Was bathed anew in hopeful morn.
The sky so vast, a boundless blue,
No cloud to mar its pristine hue.
/
Yet earth below bore wounds of strife,
A canvas torn by storms of life.
Still, light lay soft on every scar,
Each mark transformed by rays afar.
A cleansing balm, it soothed the ground,
In every shadow, hope was found.
/
Step by step, his purpose clear,
The end he sought, at last, drew near.
Maria's house, her silent grave,
And crosses where the names now fade.
He knelt, the cold stone met his hand,
Its weight a truth he'd long withstand.
/
Behind him lay the schoolyard still,
Its chapel silent, graves to fill.
"Maria," he whispered, voice so low,
"I fled the fangs of fate's cruel blow.
I stitched my life, my threads, my scheme,
But at what cost to this fragile dream?"
/
He gazed above, the clouds in flight,
Their dance a tribute to the light.
The sun, now full, adorned the skies,
Its warmth the world could not disguise.
"The beauty's here, Maria, my dear,
Do you recall such mornings clear?
/
Together once, we woke to this,
The sun our guardian, life our bliss."
His voice grew soft, his breath grew thin,
"I've stained my hands with grievous sin.
But no more blood, no lives to claim,
I lay it down, this wretched name."
/
He wished to see her face once more,
The saint he'd lost, the life he swore.
But darkness lingered in his heart,
A gulf too wide to bridge apart.
"Remember me, the man I was,
Not this dark shade, this hollow cause.
/
Forget the monster I became,
And hold the past Nikita's name."
He drew his gun, the weight so light,
Against the grave, his soul took flight.
The last round chambered, fate held fast,
His whispered breath became his last.
/
"I'm sorry," came his final plea,
A voice now lost to eternity.
The trigger pulled, the echo stilled,
A life at rest, a fate fulfilled.
The sun ascended, bright and bold,
Its warmth both tender and yet cold.
/
The crimson pool beneath him spread,
A quiet requiem that of the dead.
His body lay where love still dwelled,
In death, the peace his heart compelled.
The dawn's embrace, a town reborn,
Though Nikita's soul would greet no morn.
/
Verse 13:
/
The soldier stirred, his breath a gasp,
Life's fragile thread in his weakening grasp.
Each inhale labored, deep and slow,
Calming the storm that sought to grow.
Above him stood the angel tall,
Majestic, still, her shadow did fall.
/
Her presence vast, yet strangely kind,
A sentinel of the eternal bind.
He turned, his voice a trembling cry,
"What horrors, angel, have crossed my eye?
This land of dread, this ruthless game,
A child's mind shattered by fear and shame!
/
Suspicion reigns where hearts should beat,
They kill for whispers on quiet streets.
Tell me, why such disgrace persists?
Why does this world in darkness twist?"
The angel spoke, her voice a chime,
"Soldier, blind, you misread the time.
/
The fault you see is not their own,
But seeds by other hands were sown.
The fear that grips, the hate that binds,
Are shadows cast by stronger minds.
You, too, have walked the easier trail,
Beliefs not yours, yet you avail.
/
Look inward, soldier, see the truth,
Your loathing misplaced, your anger uncouth.
For in your hand was the sword they gave,
And in their fear, they sought to save."
The soldier bowed, his voice grew low,
"Then I am guilty; this I know.
/
I've spilled their blood; I've played my part,
But what becomes of this weary heart?
Tell me, angel, death divine,
What lies beyond this fate of mine?
And the boy I saw, his tragic plight,
What becomes of his soul tonight?"
/
The angel paused, her gaze turned far,
Beyond the skies, where spirits are.
"You've sinned, dear soldier, yes, it's true,
Yet judgment waits for what lies in you.
Your purpose lived, your truths confessed,
Will guide you now to final rest.
/
Heaven or hell, no fate is sealed,
By life's intent, all paths revealed.
Now, I must confess to you,
It hurts me, the end he drew,
The tragic fate to be endured,
The madness he unbound, ensured.
/
Thus, a second chance I gave,
Same souls, same love to crave
A fate recast, a kinder end,
To live again, a soul to mend."
She gazed upon his wounds that bled,
"You, too, shall pass; your time is sped.
/
What will you do with moments brief,
To meet your end with peace or grief?"
The soldier smiled, though weak and frail,
A spark of life in a tale grown pale.
"Before you take me, grant this grace,
Let me leave words in their rightful place.
/
A pen, some paper, just an hour,
To weave a message with my last power.
No cries to the wind, no futile plea,
But a letter that lasts beyond the sea."
The angel, silent, her wings did sweep,
A quiet smile to his wish so deep.
/
Beside him she knelt, her watch did keep,
As his pen began its final leap.
Each stroke a hymn, each line a prayer,
His soul laid bare in ink laid there.
And when at last his breath was gone,
The angel cradled his spirit withdrawn.
/
His hands released, the letter fell,
A gentle sound, a solemn knell.
The last strokes of a man, now dead,
The last words they wrote, now read:
"For Elena."