Poetry From The Weakened Soul
Author: Neil Evans

Chapter 141
The Final Fight

You think you're tactics are clever.
Oh you're such a strategist!
But I'm better, older, wiser and
Oh! You're so very naive!

I've been around longer than you, boy.
And I know the gore, the battle moves.
I know everything about this fight!
Predicting your every move!

Every time you close your eyes,
That's me, inside your dreams,
What's wrong with you?
I can't quite say but I think you're
Just too young to taste the kill.

Now how could this happen?
My veil of knowledge suddenly
Ripped apart and shredded,
By another curve-ball maneuver!

I can't let you win this!
But the way you're fighting,
Makes me feel as if it's over,
This can't be! This can't be!

Every time you close your eyes,
That's me, inside your dreams,
What's wrong with you?
I can't quite say but I think you're
Just too young to taste the kill.

As the dust clears, the blows stop,
My eyes water and my gaze drops.
I see that I'm victorious, yet again,
I see no irony or surprise at this.

Every time you close your eyes,
That's me, inside your dreams,
What's wrong with you?
I can't quite say but I think you're
Just too young to taste the kill.

 

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