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Death and The Puppeteer by blue
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How can I be redeemed, Serenity?
The blood on my hands,
the spatters of civilizations and races and planets
that I have so easily destroyed...
Yet I wear the white of a Sailor fuku,
as if I am not that powerful,
as if I am not that stained.
You fear my villainy,
my mistress' control,
as if she had the power to tap into my destructive powers
with her little red strings...
Rest your heart and soul and do not fear.
My mistress is but a stringless puppet herself,
and her master is not Fate but a mortal being
capable of a mortal's death.
And I am Death,
not man or beast or a breakable thing.
She has breathed my air and bared my touch
and she will not even amount to become a spatter on my robes...
Forgotten and discarded,
she will burn in hell for trying to control
a god!
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