1418.

The impetus that
sits behind those eyes is a
game of heart's, stabbing.

1417.

A fever dressed like
intention that just spreads the
disease on its tongue.

1416.

Armor only has
meaning if you ignore its
cracks. Vulnerable.

1415.

Usurpation a
dream for beaten conquerers.
Too many windmills.

1414.

Barbarians and
cowards alone hold the reins
in this fragile heart.

1413.

A game of feints that
between us feels almost just
hereditary.

1412.

An inversion by
proxy. Slight of heart in the
methods. Redundant.