Sunday, January 24, 2016

YOUR MIGHT

There might be no justice here after all, my friends.
I was born with its image in me and one that was of war.
Your deeds might go without response,
While you shiver with power…
I am living in a kind of furnace with flames all around,
forging blades to serve me one day in the battleground.
If there is no justice here, even then, I'll rise.
I'll rise and I'll butcher you like in some slaughterhouse.
In my mind it'll be for justice, but you may not understand.
For you I'll say "it's for fun!"; and I'll drink one to your plight.
I'll butcher you before your own; while you display your might.

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