The Novice of Akelarre

Camouflaging like a venomous snake, waiting for the moment to

inject its poison, separating your heaven from your hell, leaving

your strengths in the desert.

They kill your hell by giving them your heaven without

distinguishing between good and evil.

First, they show you their first face—angels with wings, killing

anyone who wields their weapon.

Poisoned, you have entered their game; their second face, their

second being—the mirror no longer finds your reflection. Your soul

now frozen is afraid to trust again.

Hidden in your glass bubble, you feel safe but deeply insecure.

Burned inside, unable to heal, you can still cauterize the wound.

Your heart no longer pumps blood; it pumps sweat, full of cries and

desolation.