the man at rope's end is not man at all, he is dead.

T'wat?

I want it. 

It's mine for the taking, if you will let me have it. 

Can I take it?

Can I have it?

Will you let it go?

I promise to love it, 

cherish it, 

hold it tight within my hands--

not to ever let go--
and play with a while

while you twist and squirm about. 

I want your soul. 

If I could just have your soul. 

If I cannot,

I will take it. 

The Reigns' Slipping, Falling. Crumbling.