The Last Leaf Monologue

The rains of woe fell upon me, a lone traveler, as I looked upon the cave of dread, Set on a quest to seek audience with the master of tears. My heart was aflame with the flames of desolation as I slowly entered the cave whose only god was that whose name is Death. I have witnessed twenty winters, winters so cold that the icy breath of Boreas would freeze newborn babes to their mother’s breast, but none could compare to the icy chill that dwelled inside the cave. Each wind flayed my skin, leaving it blistered and purple. Bereft of the fruits of life, the only inhabitants were black stones splashed with blood, a red as vibrant as wine. Skeletons, blackened with age, litter the ground, painting a grotesque display. Abhorred by the sight, my heart begged me to escape

[I grasped the blade in my hand and looked into its steel face, my own eyes stare back at me.]

NOW: Are you a bewitched blade that can speak without a face?

Blade: Oh my gentle child, this forest bares many enchantments, and those who dwell beneath its rooted fingers are burdened with god’s foolish gift to men. I send my thoughts to your thoughts. Your mind is not that of a knight or knave. Nah, you come to seek dialogue with my lord and master. A story from him will only be ill words. I will gift thou with my song instead.

NOW: If you can speak words like a man, what song must you sing?

Blade: The song of despair. Born from a liquid fire was I and by man’s hand I became a long claw. I was not made to be a tool of war or the hunt. I am the holy blade for the men of sin to seek reprieve on. A gift, a gift of infinite darkness! Mortal men clutch me close and bestow upon me a crimson cloak. My kiss is a cold release and from their breast pours the spring of relief.

NOW: What evil is this you speak of? What unholy bloodshed does thou partake