Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Being at War

Lets deal with the devil inside,
Said the voice which had died,
And with the shrill laughter they rose,
To the moon light that masked the night.

He had a knife, and a sword in the right,
"How would you want to die, Master?", he cried,
Only one would survive tonight, this I knew,
Lets play, and lets make this night senile.

He shrieked, he screamed like a wounded lion,
And with the sword, he charged, to take the life.
I shrieked, I screamed, like the master, the slave,
And to death in glory, did I charge.

The night is long, lets drink to Life,
The days are gone, lets drink for joy,
He danced, a madman's dance, magic on his tongue,
And he danced, a firefly's dance around the sun.

And when the dance ended, he took the sword,
A slash to the right, and his own throat in line,
The blood that sprout, like fountains, as he breathed his last,
The devil was gone. so was my pride.