Strike

One Monologue

And pray tell me, if you know so confidently much and I so pitifully none. Tell me how love, in its purest form is unreachable and bonds of hate unbreakable because you, in your spite, never bothered looking for a key. Tell me how right you stand, looking down to the simple nature of a simple man. But do not, in your venom, tell me that I cannot save her from a fate so scornfully set. Do not say the beat of my heart is that of fear, when it is hope. Hope I may yet prevail. For in your cynicism I see that  you know nothing. I will save my love today, tomorrow, and each day after if it be, and you cannot hault a mission for that! Death comes as a welcome sleep, but I am not yet tired. So spite me you loathsome beldame, it will do nothing now. I do not need glorious victory, just assurance she will live. So strike! I have already succeded in no longer fearing a great fool as yourself. Strike!