To hide in the shadows
With three poisoned daggers:
One kills quick, like gallows;
Two causes such swift sleep;
And three lingers, like scotch
Aging in casks shallow -
Burning as it enters
The bloodstream, stays for years,
Victims all feel hollow.
The assassin lingers
Within the dark doorways.
With lightning quick fingers
She'll strike out from that place
As "The March" meanders
Through streets and alleyways.
Who will be blessed with strikes
Of such sudden slumber,
And who cursed by dagger
Through pain, makes one dumber?
All the guards... all ten deep..
In death, find their number...
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