《Tranquility: A collection of original poems》27| Hand me the Knife
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I beg you, please,
Hand me the knife.
I need to rescue myself from the awful disease.
And I think the screams in my head agrees.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Please, I beg you,
Let me end the strife.
For there's nothing worthy left in my life.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Please, I implore,
You won't see me bother you anymore
Just one last request...
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Give me the knife
And there'll be no more lies.
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- In Serial14 Chapters
Transposed
Apparently, even heaven had the odd clerical error. Which was not something Nathaniel Miller would have expected, and yet, that seemed to be exactly what had happened to him. The collector of souls seemed to have been given the wrong address, and instead of taking one Nathaniel Miller of the earth apparently right next door, he took Nate. As recompense for this small bit of error Nate was placed in the body of the Nathaniel Miller that had supposed to have been taken in the first place, and seeing as he now had an opportunity to try to live his life a different way he planned on taking advantage of this chance. No one, however, had specified how different this world would be from his, sure they had said the tech would be a little older, and there were other small anomalies. But no one had seen fit to let him know that older meant medieval, and those small anomalies mentioned? They probably referred to all the fantasy elements and magic that seemed to be part of this world. Still, he was determined to do better this time around, after all, chances like this were next to unheard of...
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