A fighter

A fighter

The chain was sticking out like a baby chick hatching from it’s shell.

A blade was sticking on like it’s life depended on it hoping it will not fall.

His blades were reflecting in the yellow hot gassy sun beaming down to earth .

Corpse was lying about covered in blood  lifeless in the beaming sun.

Yellow sun mask dangling with is crooked marshmallow teeth with strawberry juice coming out.

Dark brown pupils widening a feeling of blizzard pain pain.

Hard rusty metal shoes decaying due to long use.

White hands reaching out to escape the endless pain with a blade inside

Heart rate was not beating and the last breath made.

Joining all the corpse and never around again.

I want to paint the end of the poem

No comments yet.

Please leave a comment. Remember, say something positive; ask a question; suggest an improvement.

%d bloggers like this: