The Assassin and Her

A Poem By Hannah // 9/13/2010

He was darkness personified.

Evil in human form.

Frozen and heartless

His chest was an empty hole.

Immovable, unshakable

Carried out his orders perfectly

and without mercy or thought

Trained from the cradle

as a killer

Never had he felt before

Never had he known love

the feel of a mother's kiss upon his cheek

the feel of comfort in a father's arms

the knowing of trust from a child's eyes

Pain, he understood most closely

Despair was his companian

Reeking havoc was his nature

Destrution was all he knew

all he cared to do

So forth he went

killing those he was told

weapons in hand

he killed silently or publicly

without a care

all that mattered was to complete his task set at hand

And so one day, the young man was given a duty

he set out to finish the life of a girl

in the way of his master

not a twinge of guilt he felt as he planned his deed so vile

till there he sat, ready to strike an arrow through her beating heart

from his vantage point in a window high

he waited for her cross the square

when he saw her.

If he was darkness, she was light!

If he was all that was wrong with the world, she was all that was good

She was the thing that made humankind worth living

It was because of her that made laughter possible

that made happiness a real thing, not a fable.

She crossed the green and stooped to speak to a little boy

his eyes were empty

scars crossed his features

a fire had caused his life to be upturned

yet despite his apearence

despite that he was not her duty to look after

she stopped to talk with him

to show him she cared

that she loved him

the man sat there astonished

that love was found so easily

that there was someone who could care so causually

at that instant she swept up her gaze and caught his eye

and their souls where knit together, one with each other

at that moment, all that there was was each other

he gasped, for her eyes showed love, love for him!

Him, who had caused the child's suffering

for it had been him who'd started that fateful blaze

on his dreaded mission

to spread the war, and the pain

and as if she could read his thoughts

she did the thing he never supposed she'd do

not screaming for help

not pointing him to her guards for what he was

she could see him poised to kill her

yet she merely accepted death

and his evil intent mattered not to her

She was at peace with living and dying

and he had never seen a person capable of that.

She then did the unthinkable,

she smiled at him

Him. Her would-be killer.

He could not fathom it

She was forgiving him of the actrocities he had commited

all was swept away in her gaze

It was as if there was a light inside her that was breaking through

into her smile, her eyes, her whole being was inveloped by it

It was as if she was merely a vessel and there was something greater inside

working through her

reaching through her to forgive him

He put down his weapon

and wept in the sorrow and pain and hate of all he had done

like a throbbing wound had been ripped open in his chest

he became fully away of his sin

and he was prepared to end his life

to somehow repay for all he had done

he deserved death

or something worse

How could he keep living

after seeing how he compared to such beauty

such purity, such light

he was filth

the scum of the world

that which haunts mothers and causes prisons to be built

he wished to hide from that goodness that was virtually screaming in his face

He stared at the knife at his side

preparing to drive it into his own flesh

when he looked up and saw her again

that look

it drove him to his knees

FOGIVENESS

it was so clearly in her eyes

he could not fathom it!

She walked up to his vantage point and stared down at him

she reached down and brushed a tear off his cheek

He couldn't stand that look any more

he was filth, he didn't deserve it

but as his eyes spilled tears again

she knelt by his side and gently took the weapon from his trembling fingers

and held him as he wept

he was once again that vernarable little boy

stolen from his home

and forced into the arts of war

he was back to that night when he chose to kill

and to stop resisting the evil

he wept still

and she held him

and still her eyes shone with forgivness

and she offered it to him

and he accepted it with an incredilous heart

a thankful heart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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