
It speaks, the light grows dim.
the sound all around me.
It consumes me.
My limb move violently away, but there is no escape.
It speaks, light becomes darkness.
Blood rushes, excitement fill my veins.
Ducking in a corner, hiding from a face.
A face of horror, a face of death.
A face that can destroy us all.
It speaks I can hear it foot steps, waxing to a full distraction in my brain.
My hand at my holster, drawing the weapon, ready to aim.
My heart pumping faster, its closer, its closer, its closer.
Now! jumping from a corner, aiming at his head.
I killed you first I proclaim
I killed you first.
As water rushes like plasma laser, from a nozzle.
Spaceman Vs Alien.
Now but a dream but the days of childhood summer
Are always more but what they seem.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
It Speaks
Posted by Louis Lioncourt at 4:52 PM
Labels: Poetry Section
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