PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Swing, the lost blade has no accuracy in the yeilding light. Contact is made to the skin, but not of the enemy. Flesh wound, sever pain to enscribe the loss of ones own mental capacity. Think hard and sink into the inevitable loss of sympathy and gradual emotions to feel the things that are no longer yours. Dont take chances with the shielded warriors, they are impossible to penetrate so dont try to break down their mental barriers. Concentrate on the focusing blade still in offensive position...the sword is drawn to the neck of the false hopes of the misleaded warrior, for he has lost his mind to happyness and doesn't see the bittersweet reality to life, one swing and an intimidating stance has left him to fall to the ground, cold and lifeless...with a smug look of self satisfaction and the accomplishment now carried on your shoulder...eyes piercing the cold night only to see the other side of darkness, and embrace what life has left to give because over-confidence is a trait only those with many weaknesses can pull off so amazingly in-sync to the last move. Liars get caught in there own web of lies and are left to die even when their best of friend are to walk by. The last move is a simple stab, to the man of no potential, the one guy who's very usefullness can be compared to that of an amoeba. You laugh as you sheath your blade, and continue your walk of pride carrying your two accomplishments as a gift from the war of life.