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Mitchell Oct 2018
Faster
Striking, lashing, dashing
His blade against mine
Lives at stake
Not mine, not mine
It must be him
Faster
I strike, he parries, I strike again
It goes through
A flash of red
A gasp of air
Not his
Mine
No!
Faster
Weakening, faltering
He strikes and strikes
Move!
I can’t
I can’t
Rushing, rushing
Blood to my head, to my side
Blurring, rushing
Parry! Riposte!
No!
Again
Again
Faster
Blade to blade
Clashing, biting
Rushing, rushing
Parry! Riposte!
Stop!
Time slows
Rushing, rushing
Unmoving
My blade, his
His blade
Downward
His throat
Faster!
I slash
He stabs
Scarlet droplets fly
Pain
Pain
My blade in his throat
His in my chest
Pain
Darkness
Nothing
I'm intending this for some kind of performative poetry, perhaps slam poetry
This was originally a small piece of impromptu writing I did.
I would love some criticism

The original is here: https://writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/86216/version/163138

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