'WACK, WACK, WACK, WACK...
I had started to lose count.
"Goodbye, Mr. Blount."
My hands tightly grip the ax,
I took aim at his bloodied back.
Fury covers my eyes with blood, "Can I do this?" I could, I could, I could.
"One more swing," I say. "I hope to God you'll pray."
I bring it down fast...
This will be the last...
The hit was clean.
...and that made 13.'
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 4:16pm on Dec 30, 2024 via server WEBX1.