Sekiro: Shadows Never Die

Night stalks the day in cruel repose, stars get buried in the nothingness of verse, Nightstalkers call on their crippling fear unhurried, as the motionless dark chose, to punctuate what it had rehearsed. my name beseech the wants of a hunted bloodline, the divine heir, whose mind stagnates with the sufferings more oft, the fluency of human violence led by a bloody coup of time, a fitting fang of someone with his arms cut off. there, i was armed with the rapt up implants, the prosthetic way of a methodical kill, thereby changing my forms of the fang, till my wound grows too defiant to be healed. To what do i owe this pleasure of unfolding magnitude, to co-exist in a world growing in on whole the mind, not a box with ghost fences crossed but the rains of fortitude to be read by my soul. wolf!!! I hear my name, howling strong wolf!!! my blood on the prowl, where it belongs [repeat]