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The Storm

The Storm is raging.
It came not suddenly, but gradually.
The clouds slowly crept in,
There was a bellow of thunder in the distance,
And eventually the storm erupted.

Dark clouds cover the sky.
The sky was once clear and blue,
But it is not blackened.
Even the rays of the life-giving sun
Can not penetrate this dark fortress in the sky.

The storm shows its fearsome power though lightning.
The lightning flashes in the sky; it gives me a pretty show.
Though beautiful and dazzling,
Lightning is deadly.
Her power can be as damaging as it is radiant.

The icy rain pours.
My bones quiver with every drop.
I look to my feet and see the submerged grass.
The grass is drowning in water,
The very substance that brought it life.

The enraged wind howls.
Everything moves at its will.
Even the trees,
Among natures most stable objects,
Tremble in the wind.

As I look to the sky,
I see a tear in the blanket,
A hole in the wall of clouds.
The suns gentle rays have prevailed
In this golden spot.

The rays are dazzling like the lightning,
But not deadly.
As the bright spots become more numerous,
Something becomes apparent
Even the mightiest of storms come to a close.

All is Calm

As I walk down the streets of my small Roman Town,
a hate fills me.
Like a tornado of flames and chaos,
the hate engulfs my heart and soul.

My friend has been dead for a week now;
his murderer is free.
The man sits in his villa without worry,
for it is money that rules the head of the governor,
not justice.

Although everyone in the town knew of this injustice,
fear of the wicked mans power gripped their hearts,
and all they could give was their sympathies.
I dont want their sympathy,
It adds coal to my fire.
Only justice can quench my thirst.

I sit in a state of gloom now,
seeing things that are not there,
hearing things that do not speak.
I am tugged in a million different directions
as I spiral into sorrow.

I gaze to the sun, pure and white,
and see how it cleanses the earth of darkness.
It cannot seem to purge the earth of this darkness,
but I can.
The sun does not set without first cleansing the earth of darkness;
my life must not set without cleansing the earth of this darkness,
a darkness that the sun could not reach.

The justice of the Empire may be ruled by the coin,
but my blade is ruled by righteousness.
Its justice is swift and pure.

I look over the hill,
and see the villa of the man.
Though the stones are bright white,
to me they are filthy, filthy with impurity.
By the time this is over,
they will be cleansed once more.

I look back at the town on the other side of the hill,
back at what I leave behind forever,
and then I make my way to the villa.
May this last deed be successful.

As I enter the mans chambers,
he kneels before me and tries to explain.
I let my sword, guided by justice, speak for me.
He is no more.

The soldiers drag me out,
but no fear is within me.
I knew of this before I began my deed of justice.
It is not fear that fills me,
but serenity.
All is clear now.

As I hear the wind of the metal instrument being drawn at my neck,
I gaze to the villa,
it is white once more.
I gaze to the sun,
and in it I see my friends smiling face.
He has a look on his face as if he has been expecting me.

I hear the sound of the metal slicing air.
I am no more,
I am in Paradise now.
All is calm.