Those Who Die By The Sword

“I want someone who’ll live for me,
Not die for me,
So put down your sword,”
She said, looking bored,
As he sank to his knees,
His chest starting to bleed,
From the wound that she’d made,
Just a moment ago.
“Before you leave,
There’s one thing I must know,”
He started to plead,
As his face hit the ground,
And all became darkness,
As he looked around.
“What is your request?”
She asked, curious,
And it must be said,
Not un-furious,
For she’d hoped he would die,
And that would be that,
For she’d no time to explain,
To this fool on the matt,
Her reasons or rhyme,
No, now wasn’t the time.
“I would ask of you why,”
He simply began,
As blood tears he did cry,
And his life passed him by.
“Just because,” she replied,
Noting that he had died,
And the words that she spoke,
Would not be heard by this bloke.
So they both walked away,
Went their separate ways,
Did you think he was dead?
No, that’s all in your head,
Just a metaphor, for the way that things end,
When you don’t want someone to say,
“We should just be good friends.”

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Ian Sharman
Ian is a freelance writer and artist. He founded Orang Utan Comics Studio with Peter Rogers in 2006, writes for their Eagle Award Nominated anthology Eleventh Hour and regularly inks for Panini’s Marvel Heroes comic.
Ian Sharman

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