Literature
I lost Merlin
His blood flows down from my hands, like red ribbons,
I pressed my guilty hands to his open wound, the blood still pouring from his now shaking body.
Guilt consumes my body, like I'm trapped; in a room full of water, and there's little air left.
I sat down behind him, and place his head on my lap, my hands still on his wound.
He jerks violently and whispers weak apologies to me, over and over again.
It's not his fault; it's mine... mine and my tyrant of a father!
I'll never forgive the king, my father, for what he's done, I shall never forgive him!
'Forgive me.' Merlin pleads; tears in his eyes, a hand on his chest, his hand on mine.
