Night & Hatred
Hatred
After a brutal fight, the night turns into a whispering arena of lost souls, and I hunger to hear what they say. What do you see when the shadows linger?
Night
When the shadows linger, I hear a silence that feels like a thousand unanswered questions, a faint echo of footsteps that might never have walked.
Hatred
A thousand unanswered questions? I will answer with a single, relentless strike.
Night
A single strike can silence many echoes, but the weight of that choice will linger long after the shadow falls.
Hatred
I’ll carry that weight until the next storm, and then I’ll strike again, louder than before.
Night
Storms come and go, and each one leaves a fresh hush. Your strike will echo, but the quiet that follows will let you hear it again.
Hatred
Then I’ll strike until the echo dies, and the hush will only grow louder with my rage.
Night
The louder the hush, the deeper the echo fades. When it finally dies, I wonder if you’ll still have something left to say.