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Why stop there,
moments before the kill?
Why give me a chance to recover?
Has your hate dissipated, leaving you unable
to finish the crime that will ensure your own survival?
Or were you calculating,
faking your passions all along,
until you found yourself unable to finalize your plans?

You stand like Truman:
Starting a war for your pride,
then refusing to win.
Do you hope that if you show me mercy
you will live to be repaid?
If you let me write our history
do not dare ask for absolution.