First blood of apocalypse as a duel with swords.
Creeping the final glass of ale with a taste of hope.
Soul’s worse than sinews of this decaying body of struggle.
Repulsed against hordes of zombies.
Mocking the pearly dew of the morning hazes of convenience.
Virus of mystery polluting magic of the skies into flesh-eating monsters.
Terminating wily fox of courage of survival like a sore of cancer spread.
Towering self-assurance with trickery eyes with the curse of pain had fallen apart.
Unpoetic descriptions of Vikings of hunger, stolen bottles of Nutella soothing acidity.
Cans of beer with ecstasy of thirst and spell of positivity.
Kicking in melancholy where tears ooze down pillows of comfort.
Chair with spikes trapping cold blade of devils.
In front of hell’s gate where antagonists dangles on the side of balcony.
Loud jump scare dropping to my knees,
Shallow breathing on a gray cloud of doubt but a sudden staggering light held my hand.
Vendetta of blood of my footsteps extricating melodies of the heart.
Embracing touch of trust and sight of drab colored walls pinching rocks of safe.