The Furies

“When you leave this room,

When you turn your back

Will you trust me not to kill you?”

I didn’t think she was evil.

But there’s a right answer,

And there’s always a wrong one, too.

The Furies, her sisters,

Were dark, so dark,

They could bruise a dead of night sky.

I had seen them kill

Many, many before

Without knowing, much less caring, why.

The Fury beside me

Was a lighter kind

Made of sandy gold and lacking claws.

I didn’t think she was evil

She hadn’t hurt me.

But, maybe, she wanted a cause.

“I’ll trust you,” to Fury.

“Lie,” she didn’t miss a beat.

“I’ll trust you,” I said it again.

The Furies were coming

Only I could destroy them.

But, Light Fury would be my defense.