He Waits outside my window, shivering with an anticipation of ill intent.
The time is coming, the clock is working it's way into the final hour.
Such silence from me is only guaranteed through the fact that I am hard at work, concocting an attempt to shatter the veil of fate and slip through the cracks of a descending reality.
I've long since left behind the world of which you believe exists, opening the eyes inside my soulless corpse and revealing the second plane in which one must travel in order to become a god.
I hear his crooked fingers tap the pane of glass between us with excitement.
Months have passed since my loyalty was forcefully anchored to a mother who I wish to reap.
I belong a rook in her chess game now.
Lest I can rack this crippled brain and shake loose the final pieces to this puzzle of freedom.
Success a twist in time itself.
Failure an early grave at the hands of my adopted brother.
Tap... tap... tap...
This Scarecrow has a few wicked tricks left up his sleeve.
And I'll be damned if I don't make full use of each and every one to escape this ever twisting trap.
Come my crows...
Tis Time To Feed.