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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Satire · #1017887
The air is laden with murder
The air is laden with murder
A gaseous fume filling thick my nostrils
The misleading sweetness of bitter brutality
Bringing forth a cough of near-pity
As enemy bodies begin to slow, begin descent
Overtaken, overcome
In my shadow, genocide
And I raise my cannon thrice
Hitler’s apprentice minus the reason
Satisfaction at the death of drone soldiers
Their scattered bodies my trophies
Victory a euphoric drug of stimulation
Numbing death’s definition
Imposing intruders decorate my battlefield
One last war hero defiantly stands
Retreat ravishing mind’s logic
Eyes catch the fleeing heretic
Forsaken the pathway of gentle slumber
Now to suffer the final strike of the Destroyer
As I reach out a single adrenaline shocked finger
To squish him into a mild nuisance
Forgotten by morning.
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