Apr 10, 2006 01:15
This arm is a killing thing
It does the work I cannot
Living my life and dying inside
So I wont have to
It burns oil and breathes fire
But is colder
Then I remember
I carry it
And it carries me
Through the maggot gardens
Held high
As a shield
Fending off the scraping claws
And gurgling fear
That possesses all
Who walk these paths
I will set it down
And amputate the monster
With a buzzsaw
And pliers
But I think
It stole my me
And used it to power
The killing shield
I wont need it much longer
And it wont need me
It has almost eaten enough blood
It is almost happy
We have almost made it to the end
Of this long road
But I die
And it dies
The day the war is done
Sunday April 9th 2006 5:07-5:19 PM
poem