The Gambit

Oh, look at them... bickering in the dirt. One talks of 'Light' while the other simply wants to eat. How... quaint. If we are to do this, let us do it with a bit of flair, shall we? I want it grand, I want it theatrical, and I want it to sound like the very foundations of their 'Outpost' are cracking under the weight of my genius. Make it sophisticated, make it menacing... and for heaven's sake, keep the rhythm precise. I have no patience for sloppiness. "Very well, my liege." Oh, the Fall is a feast for the eyes! And the Grace is a gift from the skies! When they bleed, it’s a beautiful sound! When they kneel, they are finally found! One drinks the nectar of sorrow and pain, The other finds sunshine inside of the rain! Good! I mean... How divine! Look! A peasant has tripped on a stone! Hear the delightful snap of the bone! Good! For the earth has provided a lesson today, To keep your stray spirit from wandering away! Are you injured, my child? Don’t look so forlorn, For through every bruise, a new virtue is born! The captain’s old sabre is rusted and stuck! Left him for dead! What a stroke of good luck! Good! For a blade that is frozen is a soul that is pure, A peace that is stagnant is a peace that will endure! Why reach for your steel when a prayer is much lighter? The Creator has no use for a clumsy old fighter! Oh, the Fall is a feast for the eyes! And the Grace is a gift from the skies! When they bleed, it’s a beautiful sound! When they kneel, they are finally found! One drinks the nectar of sorrow and pain, The other finds sunshine inside of the rain! Good! I mean... How divine! The merchant has scattered his gold in the mud! I can smell the despair! I can taste it like blood! Good! For the pockets of mortals are heavy with sin, Empty your purse so the Light may come in! Don’t weep for your silver, don’t cry for your bread, Consider the riches of Heaven instead! The prisoner screams in his cold iron cage! A masterpiece written in terror and rage! Good! For in stillness the mind is compelled to be wise, To seek out the truth with its own inner eyes! Don’t rattle the bars, let your solitude grow, It’s the only way heaven will want you to know! The ritual’s broken! The timing’s precise! The sinner is choking! A small sacrifice! The clock has run out and the darkness is near! My dear, it’s the music that I love to hear! Precision is patience! The plan is sublime! We’re always exactly and strictly on time! May the radiance find you exactly where - "Oh... shut... up."