As it Was in the Beginning (1/2)
Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?
---And this is the time when you send me back
Back over the junkyard, across the track
And under abandoned warehouses, to where
You first found me, filthy, undressed, in despair.
You pitied the derelict, gave me a home
You gave me a yard and said never to roam
You taught me your methods, perfected my skill
I learned how to sabotage, learned how to kill
I wheedled and spied for you, Master my dear
When dark work was called for, I toiled without fear
I was your assistant, apprentice; in time
I copied your eloquence, meter and rhyme.
And, Master and Partner, you knew I adored
All your kindness and charms, and your ill-gotten hoard.
You believed that I trusted, thought I never would tell
How you used up my innocence; left just a shell.
But that shell, once abandoned, I filled once again
I was stealthy and smiling; my ledger and pen
I maintained to perfection, and found means of my own
To gain things that I needed. You never were shown
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
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