• Hey Guest,

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L'absent

L'absent

À ma manière 🪦
Aug 18, 2024
1,384
Screenshot 20250215 102218117 1

Come.
But do not crawl,
do not advance like a forsaken lover,
do not reach out your bony fingers to claim me.
I do not belong to you.

You waited, you hoped,
that I would be the one to extend my hand,
that I would kneel before you,
but you will not have even that satisfaction.
I will not be your trophy; I will be your downfall.

You, who have watched millions fall in your wake,
who have filled graves and emptied eyes,
who have built altars from the bones of the defeated,
now stand bare, without prey, without power.

I want to die amid thunder and fury,
in the shockwave that shatters your reign,
I want to die in the shot that breaks time,
in the blood that flows without your name carved into it.

Look at me, Death.
You have nothing left to take,
no one left to bow beneath your scythe.
You expected a sacrifice, a tribute,
but I gave you no choice,
I took from you the pleasure of the harvest.

You have not won, you have claimed nothing,
this time, you are the one left empty-handed.
Your cycle is now ash scattered in the wind,
your hunger twists into a silent scream,
there is no one left to drag into the darkness.

I want to die where I was born,
in the flash that set flesh ablaze,
in the detonation that vomited the universe,
in the roar that shattered the gates of the void.

And when the shot rips through the silence,
when the metal burns away your final breath,
when blood gushes onto your astonished face,
you will know it is over.

You have taken nothing, you have stolen no one,
you were never the curtain's close, just a fading illusion.
I did not meet you, I crushed you.
I did not bow, I ridiculed you.

And the blood flows, Death, but not mine.
And not theirs.
You will not even have that consolation.
 
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