Crimson Prince
by: Danica Paz

He touches his face
In stupified amazement

"Not...me"

Caressing the tender white scar
that is now
his trademark.

The division complete
his life...
at last his

to lead
to kill

"Kill..."

He sees her
looking back at him,

Prettified vacuity.

Longing to gouge her eyes -

"my eyes"

- her eyes out

Touching his hair in wonder

too soft...

for one forged so hard,

examining his slender hands -

"her hands"

and chokes back a laugh

a sob?
of pure bitterness

...burning...burning...

what burns?

a soul

"Do I have one?"

a heart

"Do I need one?"

a wound

"It stings..."

the anger

the loathing

the fear

is all me.

burning.