Dec 2012
Lift from the smoldering ash
Mount your chariot "soldier"
Have you no shame in your failures?
Do you not wake to taste the blood of your foe?
Trumpets blast from the crumbling stone walls
As the moans of dying men play the symphony I cherish
While the trickling of blood sings it's sweet verse
I ride upon sunset, dagger between my ribs
I need not this chariot, I combat by foot
No foe can match my brutality
Watch as my slain victim crumples
Like the paper that he always has been
I am forever victorious
Mount your chariot "soldier"
Have you no shame in your failures?
Do you not wake to taste the blood of your foe?
Trumpets blast from the crumbling stone walls
As the moans of dying men play the symphony I cherish
While the trickling of blood sings it's sweet verse
I ride upon sunset, dagger between my ribs
I need not this chariot, I combat by foot
No foe can match my brutality
Watch as my slain victim crumples
Like the paper that he always has been
I am forever victorious
I uploaded this at the wee hours of the morning and would like to analyze my own writing. The foe that I speak of is myself. The pain I bring upon myself is my enemy. The dagger between my ribs shows that I cannot **** myself, thus being forever victorious.
