taste of blood

I walk aimlessly with my fists clinched tight,

I am a man of war, who doesn’t feel right,

Rage creeps in as my flesh begins to boil

Life seems like an endless road to death,

Anger and aggressiveness is the only way I can toil

The beast staring into my eyes represents my faith

To quench my thirst, I need to see someone’s ruptured health

I am in a quiet riot with my soul and my conscience is an army of never ending demons

As my fingers start cramping, I see death in his eyes

No knife, no gun, my bare hands are enough to kill the beholder of my destiny.

Now it’s between him and me, as the echoes of silence begins to deafen me

In complete awe he stares at me, but all he sees is a man on a killing spree

He fears but knows his end is near,

Tenth man in the line of death, nine already sent to hell

I hate him for what I am

As my hand begins to explore the insides of his chest,

I ask him,” is it brutal”?

But he is already gone

He bleeds profusely as I stand on top of him with the stench of his flesh clobbering my spirits

The power of brutality surpasses my mind and I’ll take no more till I taste the blood again.