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