With trembling hands, she let the sword fall.

The blood was still warm, yet her heart had frozen long ago.

Reluctantly, slowly, and in tears, she gazed into the eyes of her first and last victim—

Eyes in which she had once been alive,

Eyes that had once held the light of her life, like a lantern in endless nights.

The slain was no enemy clothed in blood,

But a beloved, dressed in the garb of demise.

And she, an unwilling killer, condemned by a choice whispered to her by fate.

Her heart broke—

Not from the sound of breaking bones,

But from a gaze she would never see again.

In that moment, death came not for her,

But for love.

The earth beneath her shook—

Not from fear,

But from a burden too heavy to bear.

She knelt beside the body that once was her safest embrace,

And found peace—

Not to ask for forgiveness,

But to feel the final warmth of his presence.

Her tears fell without permission,

Just as she had taken life without leave.

His half-open lips seemed to still want to speak—

Perhaps a forgiveness,

Perhaps a final word of I love you never spoken.

The wind gently brushed through his blood-matted hair,

And time itself seemed to halt,

To mourn a love slain by destiny.

She remained alone—

Not on a battlefield,

But within the flames of a regret that would burn in her soul forever.

A killer without pride,

A lover without refuge,

And a girl who would never forgive herself...

Her lips trembled.

Not from cold, nor fear,

But from a deep, shattered, silent feeling.

She bent down, resting her forehead against his,

As if still hoping for return, for a miracle amidst the ruin.

With delicate fingers, she wiped the blood from the corners of his lips,

And then… softly, silently,

Placed a kiss on lips that no longer answered.

Not as farewell,

But to leave behind the last trace of love in the heart of night.

She whispered under her breath, with a broken, hushed voice full of sorrow:

"I will join you soon; you will not be alone in this solitude."

She laid the sword aside—

Not in peace, but in surrender.

She lay beside his lifeless body,

Her gaze fixed on the sky, on that endless blackness,

And a bitter smile played on her lips—like one who has accepted the end,

But still lives it with love.

In the arms of night, in his arms,

Her eyes slowly closed…

And this time, death was not an enemy,

But a release.