Het doosje met alles

A small planet’s worth. 

Versus me. 

“This cigarette doesn’t taste like cigarette. Hand me another!” 

Just me. 

“Child!” 

“Lord?” 

“What is the First Law.” 

“Draw.” 

“And the Second Law?” 

“Sheathe.” 

I can count them. All of them. It is already over. 

“Light the cigarette.” 

“Yes Lord.” 

There is always need for bloodshed. 

Twelve million fools.  

And silly old me. 

Draw 

Sheathe. 

There is a third Law. 

One we do not teach to children. 

One that is learned. 

Either you live and become invincible under the last Sun. 

Or you die. 

Draw 

Sheathe 

And between 

Drawn out 

SLICE