I killed a man today.

I spin under royal thralls of knowledge.  
The key for truth buried behind my words;    
derelict syllables gripping the shovel,    
their dead-weight flung off    
my tongue erratically.    
Blood is my partner;    
from page to page,    
from eons of endless scrawl.  
We relentlessly repel the odds,    
living as Kings and Queens of all    
tensely-strung thrumming hearts.  
   
I killed a man today;    
he was living inside my head.  
Maliciously I showed him that    
trespassers would not be tolerated,    
heaving truth into his veins.  
As expected it poisoned him breathless,    
never to be heard of again.  
   
Sometimes when the    
night-silences cry wolf,    
I accusingly blink at his  
corpse in the corner.  
Turning bruised eyes away;    
I resume my place with Blood,    
spinning until the light    
carries us someplace thoughtless.