An apt description? Perhaps a bit mild. We are all traitors, for we have all betrayed him. Each and every one of us, in our own way.
Your treacheries were far less exceptionable than mine, for you merely ridiculed him for the manner in which he presented himself. You seduced him with false hopes of true friendship. You took undue advantage of his kindness, compassion, forbearance and generosity of spirit. In every altercation of his involvement, you cast blame on him; cast blame without ascertaining where the truth lay, cast blame for it served your petty, political purposes. You wounded him in a manner that is unseen, but he will bear the scars therefrom for all time to come.
But your wounds are mere scratches to the mortal blow I have dealt him. I am the most treasonous of all, for I doubted his intentions. I found hidden agenda where there were none. I saw subterfuge where there was none. Sad, for he is I and I am he.
He lies dying here. Bleeding profusely from my unrelenting assaults. He cannot be revived. And we will pay the price. You will all, each and every one of you, be born time and again of a diseased jackal mother. But my punishment will be the most severe, for I will be that diseased jackal mother, giving birth to you time and again, birth after miserable birth, for all eternity.
– Musings of the deranged bard
20141017 10:14 hr