#AHSCDINEGSODNGSUZKVD

[a-grayscale]

I Don’t Trust You

The first time was in the void of the afterlife.

A deal was struck, freedom for revival, revenge for both.

Rags and chains traded for a fleece and bell.

Before the mortal sheep left, is when they first stated it.

“I don’t trust you.”

The second time was the Lamb’s victory against the last Bishop.

A final confrontation between god and acolyte, before a deal came to an end.

Cloven hoofs lifted to be sent back to the flock, when the words left their mouth.

“I don’t trust you.”

The third time was when death was indoctrinated with the rest of the flock.

Anger and tension swirled in the air between the two as onlookers held their breath.

A tension that passed as robes were shoved into arms, words of rage hurt? were spoken clear as day, and the smell of wool faded in sync with the jingles of a bell.

“I don’t trust you”

The fourth time was at the indoctrination of the worm.

Mockery and teasing spoken in the cheekiest of tones.

Reminders of what the old god of chaos had done in the past. A warning?

Sentences of a nearly playful tone, broken short by the cruelest of reminders.

I don’t trust you

I don’t trust you

I don’t trust you

I don’t trust you

Four times was it stated, and four times did it sting.

Once hit to prophecies told for interpretation.

Twice hit to godly pride.

Thrice hit to desires of true freedom.

Four times a hit to the heart, that beat quieter and quieter after each hit.

“I can’t trust you.”

A change in phrase, three eyes lock with two.

A breath held in anticipation, in fear. In hope?

“However, I’m willing to try…”

An opportunity gained, a heart skipping a beat for the first time since it’s drumming returned.

Days turned to weeks, turned to months, turned to years, turned to decades.

Fragments of a mask slowly shattered, the ex-god saw.

A heart unshielded after centuries of carefully crafted protection.

Layers of hesitation and harshness softened like the wool that covered them from cold.

A smile, once forced and fake, now freely forming with the sweetest of sounds to follow it.

“I trust you.”

A final change in phrase, one to be repeated for eternity.

A day with bells and celebration, paw and hoof intertwined with rings to symbolize a bond of love and…Trust.

A bond of trust, Narinder vowed, never to be broken.

[angstandhappiness]

AUGH, OOOF, SO GOOD

I Don’t Trust You

The first time was in the void of the afterlife.

A deal was struck, freedom for revival, revenge for both.

Rags and chains traded for a fleece and bell.

Before the mortal sheep left, is when they first stated it.

“I don’t trust you.”

The second time was the Lamb’s victory against the last Bishop.

A final confrontation between god and acolyte, before a deal came to an end.

Cloven hoofs lifted to be sent back to the flock, when the words left their mouth.

“I don’t trust you.”

The third time was when death was indoctrinated with the rest of the flock.

Anger and tension swirled in the air between the two as onlookers held their breath.

A tension that passed as robes were shoved into arms, words of rage hurt? were spoken clear as day, and the smell of wool faded in sync with the jingles of a bell.

“I don’t trust you”

The fourth time was at the indoctrination of the worm.

Mockery and teasing spoken in the cheekiest of tones.

Reminders of what the old god of chaos had done in the past. A warning?

Sentences of a nearly playful tone, broken short by the cruelest of reminders.

I don’t trust you

I don’t trust you

I don’t trust you

I don’t trust you

Four times was it stated, and four times did it sting.

Once hit to prophecies told for interpretation.

Twice hit to godly pride.

Thrice hit to desires of true freedom.

Four times a hit to the heart, that beat quieter and quieter after each hit.

“I can’t trust you.”

A change in phrase, three eyes lock with two.

A breath held in anticipation, in fear. In hope?

“However, I’m willing to try…”

An opportunity gained, a heart skipping a beat for the first time since it’s drumming returned.

Days turned to weeks, turned to months, turned to years, turned to decades.

Fragments of a mask slowly shattered, the ex-god saw.

A heart unshielded after centuries of carefully crafted protection.

Layers of hesitation and harshness softened like the wool that covered them from cold.

A smile, once forced and fake, now freely forming with the sweetest of sounds to follow it.

“I trust you.”

A final change in phrase, one to be repeated for eternity.

A day with bells and celebration, paw and hoof intertwined with rings to symbolize a bond of love and…Trust.

A bond of trust, Narinder vowed, never to be broken.