The Death of Our Maker

Crime scene investigators were searching in every corner Looking for that last piece of evidence to convict All that was found in the dark room with no furniture Was a lightless halo, few feathers, and blood as though pricked “Situation not too good” said the chief investigator I cannot explain where this all came from as we need Whose blood is this on the cold linoleum floor? If it is the blood of the holy one why does he bleed? The bounty hunter now with a new assignment To find the one who killed the creator Situation has arisen from the west he felt through his senses That the killer is still lurking better know as the new maker The lonely hunter trailing the wanted again feels this curse From the south it came as though trailed on a hearse Except this time the hunter was being hunted from the abyss As a horn rose up high as fire erupted slitting his wrist The new creator stood above the hunters decaying body Life now ejected from his eyes blackened out with light Before the hunter could lock eyes on the murderer so holy A voice struck from the darkened room where he lay lonely The voice was that of himself as he saw a reflection in the mirror “Who is the killer of the creator and soon to be me” he stated As the mirror opened up revealing the new maker he startled Their eyes met and he saw the lightless halo, few feathers and his blood His blood dripping from the hands of the wingless angel of the dark The hunters’ eyes closed ever so slowly in pure disbelief of what he saw The murderer of the creator of life was his right hand man who beckoned as his call The murderer sought revenge on his creator…..the murderer was Lucifer