Writing Shotgun

Ash floats heavy in the air, clogs my nose, stings my eyes,
The barrel lays heavy against my leg, reminder of my cause
Cold steel like the elephant can’t ever forget
The gouged and bloodied path I now walk.
Alone in a city of thousands, creeping beneath the walls
I stalk the boundaries of my youth
Scared and stinking and full of soul,
A meal for those below.
I will not go, I cannot. I am the last
The great hope, the medicine, the angel of death.

Shaking bloody hands slip over cylindrical shells,
Pressing them unto the breach
Back to the wall, back to the drawing board
Back to the primordial soup
I must prevail
Groaning, shuffling, pustulous nightmares creeping around corners
Flayed and splintered by my blasts,
I wield my longsword again and again
Until all is quiet once more and then
I sleep

Sleep is the distance between closing my eyes
And the moment of clarity that shatters my heart
Somewhere in between light and dark
A place where I forget

They scream my name in tongues, jerking me awake
The solace of daylight fades through the cracks in the blind
I stand for the first time since I came home
Knee deep in the rotten flesh of hell my stomach turns
In the room where I learnt to spell
Familiar curtains hang tattered, Mum will kill me when she sees
I pack up, back out and flee
In the half-light the streets seem almost alive again
With cars and papers and trees
Onwards I press, the angel of death
No reprieve

Back to work, a day at the office
Bristling with hubris and packing a punch
Todays lunch spent piling desks at the door
Tomorrow morning I shall clock in no more.
I cannot die yet I cannot live,
Hunted and harried, broken, alone
Tonight this ends, for better, for worse
Tonight I endeavour to end my curse
For tonight, I challenge YOU to a duel
I hear your fingers tapping away my fate
How could you be so cruel?

You hi-jacked my life, replaced light with fear
You took my identity, my accent, me!
You forced me to fight without questioning why
You may be my father but now you must die.

With a mighty leap he traversed the page,
Leaping at me with both barrels raised
Screaming and tortured and full of malaise
I pull out the power to no avail
A whirling dervish of my making, my darkness poured out
Manifest, unmanacled, an ignorant lout
I created you with my written word
My pen is mightier than your sword

You sleep

Sleep is the distance between closing your eyes
And the moment of clarity that shatters your heart
Somewhere there, between light and dark
A place that you forgot
A place that I cannot
I am your creator, your master, your God
You sleep now forever
Until I write on
Buried by papers, rest in my drawer
I am your father and you are no more

Writing Shotgun

spandexbeast

Joined March 2008

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