An Assassin

Cut in the eyebrow,
scar unlined the body.
He ran through in his mind,
the focus embellishing with every pint.

His eyes were sharp as a diamond,
Hands could be mistaken for a miner’s,
Bowling in the dale of menace,
The only terror to him was fright itself.

There was a frozen heart somewhere inside of him,
people called it stone unravelling.
He felt justified in his soul,
His god told him there aren’t many to do so.

As he sailed on the craft,
the sea roared its suppressed laugh.
It was the silence before the storm,
A joke played by nature routinely.

The end neared,
His breath evenly flowing,
He called for his love with eyes closed,
And knew even death would be a beautiful gift,
For this to him was his purpose to mortal life.