Lack of Daze of Whimsical: Part 9 Soul's Apprentice

To: Kiefer Sutherland

Part 9: Soul's Apprentice-

A catapult is an endearing engine of siege, shattering bricks with it's launching of boulders. But too much strain on a rope and a misfire takes it's flight path in a different direction. A miscollected backfire sends a faltered man to his knees and a targetier's projectile rocketing into his lap. Lapping up guilt like a quilt sewn with a seamstress' fiber of remission.
The King saw the peasents as chattel, livestock of a lesser order, ordained by a ministry of misery. To the miser's demand of time's grandstand, the aristocracy treated them like mongrel dogs. Delver's adherence, to the demon's appearence, as a King raised a flag doused in blood. Rabble rousers unite, to an imbecillic delight, at the sight of spilling temperal body fluids and matter. Blood and guts lined the street, when King and Prince's paths were to meet, as foretold in a seer's vision.
The prince's new mentor, the Paladin inventor who taught him the ways of war. Faith in dire straights, alive in the hive of the to be announced...
A will o' wisp to the trainer's eclipse neglecting the prime's vanity disdained. For looks are about nothing, when masked by a visor and a glorious armour of bluffing putting two down, then calling it a draw. It is all or nothing, wretched as it's dark itch spreads sundered across a blunt double edged sword...