Behind the Blades

Within the depths of rage,

the final role of anger

I shove the pulsing life machine

down the throat.

Eyes forging crystals to shatter

at the dancing feet.

I choke the heart deeper.

Rather die behind the Blades.


Within bloodlust,

the final role of anger

I impale the self onto the darkness.

All I have tasted is pain but the moments

of sun is a blinding memory.

Remaining even in the darkest of hours.


Within the black out,

the final role of anger is letting go.

I let it all fall like the bodies dropping

as the Blades sing their tale.

I become the Fallen Hero that I am.

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