Stalking its victim,
The attacker comes near.
A poor helpless fellow,
Cowers in fear.

He runs for cover
But it's no use
Soon he'll be
at the end of a noose

He runs to the forest
The hunter's home ground
He spots the assassin
Frantically runs around

The killer draws near
His hand near his belt
Thinking of all
The pain he has felt

The victim was evil
The victim was cruel
In just a few seconds
He won't even be able to drool

The victim could not
Remember what he had done
The assassin didn't care
Now he was having his fun

As he draws closer
He unsheathes his dirk
Approaching his victim
With a lifestealing smirk

He stabs once
He stabs twice
He stops for a moment
And then he stabs thrice

His bright red eyes
Stare into his foe's
Whose life is about
To come to a close

He whips out his bow
And aims for the head
Letting the arrow fly
He avenges those who are dead

The arrow strikes true
Another one killed
The killer walks away
Another grave will soon be filled

Deeper into the forest
The assassin descends
Sick of the people
Whose life he ends

Entering the Temple
With an absence of none
He bows to the people
And says simply, "It's done"

He turns to the entrance
His cloak flowing behind
Thinking of the next kill
Acting it out in his mind

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Scarlatan, in the year 288 AF.