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The Death Game
A deadly game
Played under darkness’s spell
Secrecy, unknown identity
With just ink, countless fell
Nightmare by a dreamer
Tangled in Power’s hands
A monster once slumbered
Now awakened within
But with every action
There is one equal and opposite
So there’s an angel
To battle the devil’s counterfeit
A clear cut confrontation
A thunderstorm it seems
Each of them is acting
Rightly as they both deem
One raised in just morals
That somewhere went astray
Because justice was never meant
To be carried out this way
One a heaven sent detective
Pale face framed by raven strands
Dark shadows beneath his eyes
The world resting in his hands
Both are playing savior
Each in his own way
What will be the outcome
Of this deadly game they play?
So close to destroying each other
Yet so far away
Both are undercover
Yet one knows the other’s name
Each move made is countered
Every plan well laid
Each chess piece is paramount
In this deadliest game ever played
Equally matched
In intellect and fame
The whole game boils down to
A face and a name
This is the battleground
And who can tell
Which one will triumph
heaven or hell?
The game is set
The match is won
Good has triumphed
Evil's reign of terror is done
The king has been cornered
With no where to run
His counterfeit crown is taken
By two equal to one
One last breath
An echoing laugh
One final cry
Marks the end of the match
Once a mighty king
Now only a pawn
In the mighty game played
In the hands of death gods
Yet as a killer dies
Still Light dimly glows
Diminishing steadily
As the pool of blood grows
Nothing left of the brilliance
The schemes and maneuvers
Just a broken young man shamed
Marked forever the loser
Light fades to darkness
And what can be done?
Death is a foe
That can’t be overcome
One lethal embrace
A bitter kiss from fatal lips
Seals the fate of a man
Destined for nothingness
Yet as Light diminishes
A greater power takes notice
A messenger from heaven
Is sent to fix the brokenness
Death gods had their way
Their game and their ‘fun’
But Almighty power triumphs
In the long run
A face and a name
Not required but used
To resurrect the part of the man
So broken and abused
The Divine page disintegrates
And the angelic mortal stands
Holding an ex-killer
In his pale slender hands
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