literature

Endurance -Itachi Tribute-

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Literature Text

Killing: swiftly, murdering, and destroying.
Techniques, methods, ways: taught.

Taught to take, not give.
Ordered to give, not take.

What is sacrifice? How far does one go?

Limits- nonexistent, rebellion lurking in the eaves,
loss of power, loss of strength- unacceptable
a loyal servant, sent

By what is it which loyalty is measured?

Sacrifice, ordered.
Orders obeyed.

What does it feel to destroy?

Faces, features: identical, similar... his.
Mortality lying behind the features, employed.

Children grow at their mother's side,
Children grasp at their father's thumb
grasping, secure;
aunts, cousins, uncles, loves;

Taken.

Justification: unsatisfactory.
Justification: barely existent.

Insides quivering, churning, burning, blending;
fading.

To stab;
to slash;
to puncture;
to wound;
to mar the flesh, deeply;
to submerge oneself in blood

familial warmth, replaced
drying lukewarm blood its stead.

Death taken by the cold, slippery dankly dripping hands,
embraced and encouraged
called forth and gifted

Conflicted hands whitely-clutch at instruments,
trembling.

Taught to take, not give.
Ordered to give, not take.

Selfish moment: "remain alive"
selfish request: "kill me"

By what is it which loyalty is measured?

Death invited,
awaited,
encouraged.

Agony, eons, ages, years:
Death taken by the cold, slippery dankly dripping hands,
shaking, vengeance flickering in the bringer's hands
hatred brimming it the bringer's soul
disgust flaming, fanning:

selfish request: "kill me"
selfless, selfish action: you're dead

Brimming in regret,
loyalty, devotion;
love

Tearing through:
pain, blindness;
loyalty.

By what is it which it is measured?
Itachi's poem finally burst forth from my fingertips after several days of struggle.

I was initially inspired to write him a tribute after viewing [link] that fanart.

I made several failed attempts at writing it, until today, after writing my silly journal entry I browsed some artwork, eventually going through fanart of his death. That made me feel sad again, and my muse stopped being a whore long enough for this to get written.

Please let me know if this was an effective poem/Itachi tribute, and if it made any sense.

I played around with punctuation, since that's what poems are for. d:

~edit: typographical error corrected.
~~edit: slightly tweaked and revised version replaced the first draft

Now on ff.net: [link]
© 2011 - 2024 oozu
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