Like a Stone

on my deathbed i will pray

to the gods and the angels

like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven

to a place; i recall, i was there so long ago

the sky was bruised, the wine was blood

and there you led me on

It was nearing dawn. The fog had settled across the lawns in dream-like angels that the birthing sun caught and burned away. I could almost hear their hissed sigh of pain, relief, and release. I brought the bottle to my lips and drank. I was thirsty not only for the wine, but the new day. I sat here watching the sunrise from a lofty perch on the roof of the House Samsara. I had once lived here. I was looking to go back to that previous life, even if only for a little while.

The night had been taxing. My hands were crusted with the fruits of my labors which now crackled and flaked off on the breeze. The wounds I had sustained a month ago were still tender, but no longer empowered with control of my actions. Yes, I killed men last night. I had been out of commission, summoned, and put back to the task at hand. I was reminded of what was at stake; the trade I had made. One life saved, for my complacent servitude. The brothers Red and Black think to control me. They only see the woman in me, and think to pass over the assassin I am. It is a mistake.

"Oman," came a low voice I knew (and by all rights loved). " Why do sit on the edge?" he asked.

I answered without turning to face my demon, " I was considering falling off, " I continued calmly, " Why are you here?"

" I have been sent to keep your considerations, simply that, " he answered plainly. I did not turn around lest my heart break.

I am resolute in my choices. I did, I remind myself, make this choice. What was done would never be undone; would never come undone.