Sunday, January 10, 2010

over run, this once my village

Invaders of fury and lust
Mercy a distant second to ferocity
Blood boiling in the veins
This rage I see even with eyes clenched tight
Foot steps heavier than the hills
Clutching myself in well worn hollow
Tremble to my own rhythm
Until quiet reaches me
Drag myself from the hole I embodied
Afraid of all that lies before
All that has past withered and dying
My feet resting upon the ashes of the village
The mud clinging hard to my skin
Tight and cracked
Reaking the foul stench of cowardice
A symbol to all I ran and hid

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