Ode to grief

You Hack and wheeze
cough and gag,
undeniallable proof that you should be dead.

But they wouldn't let a man of you stature, a man of your logic go to waste.
They wouldn't let a weapon such as you fall through there fingers and dissappear just like that.
no, they had bigger plans for you.

Betrial and Murder.

But how to make you do such a thing,
a commander,
loyal soldier,
a worshiped god.
Go against his people and republic?

How about they put what's left of you in a cyborg?
one with cold hands,
that way you can't feel.

But hands aren't what you feel with...

The heart.


But that can be easily fixed,
we'll just throw it out.
toss out the pride, love, and kindness you had
and replace it.
with a heart that once lived in a body of a murderer,
not anymore.
it belongs to you...

and now,
we'll give you an order.
and see how you do.