In the dark, cold night
Just before the slaughter
The royal family slept, while
Acacius crept into their chamber
No sound was made
As he stood over his mother
Between her breasts
His dagger penetrated
Before she could scream
His hand covered her mouth
And her world turned to black
Like a candle light now burnt out
Removing the blade
He turned to his father
It was now time to take
The second lamb to the slaughter
Plunging the dagger
Into his father's throat
Bright red blood erupts
Amidst gasping gurgles
Agathor stares at his son
Acacius seems cold and distant
As he wraps his hands onto his
Dying father's head
As a tear rolled down
Agathor's solemn face
Acacius quickly snapped
The mighty king's neck
His parents were dead
And now their blood
Was on Acacius's hands
And he simply loved it