I had believed

The silk around her eyes
Fluttered to her feet
Sword blunt and rusty
Not a neck sliced

Unused, rid of life
It yearns not for justice
Blood, long since dried
It yearns not for meat

Her arm has gone lazy
Limp, and waiting
For what?
The living bleat
Louder cries?
The dead to bleed

And now the once golden
scales are still and dusty
I had believed
In justice
I had believed