This Means War.

A re-ocurring dream.

This Means War.

 

The sunlight is blocked out by the building of wreckage and the moon is high,

Minutes from midnight as everything is dying.

The air is cold, an icy chill creeping through and through as the wolves howl.

Agony filled screams is what is heard, 360 around, in the dark distance.

The scent of blood is heavy as the night air, deep as exhaustion.

The lives I claim of Their forces through a dark cloak of gushing wounds

And strong sorrow is no amount to lives lost inside of me.  I am down to One.

Their forces is down to One as well and I scream wildly to bring it.

There's a hissing of wind, a faint chanting of defying morals.

I take there step back, my heart a lump of unmoving coal.

I whirl around at the touch of flesh against my sweat covered back,

The barrel of my Desert Eagle placed between two eyes, two eyes trained to kill.

The motion is well rehearsed, returned just as fast, just as cold, just as taunting.

Eyes are locked, breaths holding, i study these enchanting orbs of familiarity.

Make a move, the ravens squawk.  We know these eyes, the mice squeak.

Any sudden movements, we die, the owls hoot.

Break the pressure, cut the ties, snap the bonds for good!, the animals cry.

My eyes do not waver, not does this Trumpet Card of Theirs.

Nor does our hands as we dance a circle.  Moments of dark silence to pass,

Sudden--C**k our pistols, holding steady, keeping even.

"I'm not going down without a fight," a voice of my own sneers coldly.

Trumpet is taller than I, but not to Their advantage.

Hands fly, swift movements, blades kiss throats as guns skid across the floor.

This cold lust will be the death of us.

"Very nice," I smirk.  "Quick as I.  How interesting."

Lips moving to our names, resisting our urges to melt away.

A cool fog mixing as we exhale, familiar eyes.

Blades dig in just a little, blood trickling, hearts unmoving.

Why hesitate?

Fast withdrawals our hands give, slicing flesh into wounds, the cries of pain given,

Tears a joke if cried, and I made a promise not do such a thing.

The glint of steel reflecting a wound soldier that is I.

Cheek slit, auburn hair a mess, coated with liquid sweat and mortal's blood.

Pale body in defense, and ready.

The voice of Trumpet is cool, an accent I once knew.

"Trembling now, are we?"

I steal a glance at my hands, finding the tremor.  Big mistake.

The blows reign down, knocked to the floor, jerked back up, slammed to a chilling wall, pinned.

The blood is strong upon my tongue as I lick what trickles away.

Why hesitate?

Spit to Trumpet's face, and feet slamming the breath from the stomach, knife skidding away.

Hand to hand combat is now even, and I will fight to the death.

It's a struggle between us both, only yelps and grunts to be exchange at agony's mercy.

But I can only see those eyes slicing through my soul, the darkness of shadows cast over.

Yanking Trumpet up, I slam this foe into the midnight moon's brightness, pinning them down,

And brush back the jagged straight locks of black hair.

My unmoving coal heart beats once at the rich brown eyes.

My unmoving coal heart beats again at the full pink lips.

And my unmoving coal heart beats a thousand times at You.

You have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape.

And neither do I.  You are Their Trumpet Card, and I was my own.

I was my own forces, and they had the world, only to send my worse fear to life?

Frantic are my eyes as I search your face for answer, any answer to the question.

My fingers knot in your hair, and tilt your head back, a grimace for your expression.

"Ever since this began, I was capturing hope through dreams," I hiss,

My fingers finding a shard of glass, clutching it so tightly, letting my blood escape.

"Ever since this began, I was blessed with a curse, the curse of loving you deeply..."

I press it your throat, a vicious death grip.

"Now I'll break this god forsaken curse once and for all!" I roar, my hand jerking back,

Your eyes widening with horror as you see it coming, clamping shut to look no more,

And my hand slams down, the shard penetrating the ground beside your head.

I have no tears left to cry.  I have no fear left to swallow, no life to take with me into Hell.

I have nothing left.  Not even the will to fight.

I shift away from you, let you stand, and wipe my blood from my face, only to smear it greatly.

If I breathe you in, and it's all over now when my arms open, I'll let you see my heart,

The one that stopped beating because I lost you.

I take three steps back, a thousand from the face I use to recognize, and stand in the moonlight,

A broken widow behind me, five stories to fall, and you're the only one who can stop me now.

Arms open wide, this heart of mine slowing down, and one step closer to the edge.

"You're breath is deep, and I can hear your heart, love," I tell you sadly.

Livid anger eats me alive like poison through my veins, "But you cannot hear mine.'

One foot over the edge, a close of my eyes, I let go.  Your heart is fast, frantic blood,

And your footsteps slam down the path.  Arms around me within seconds, a twist of a body,

And a cradle of my head.  You cannot do this!  Don't replace your life for mine!

The ground is coming fast, and we're spinning out of control.  Three seconds on the clock.

"Say my name one last time," you whisper to me.  "Please, ______."

My lips part with two seconds left to go.  I close my eyes, and whisper the name I never forgot.

"_____."

Author's Note

Ignore grammar problems please...

Reviews

[Dylan S.]

I had this kind of problem too, like there was I waged a war against my self. I stopped fighting, and I went to other tundras. Good poem.

[screamin'ian]

This is intense! Very vivid detail and description. Very strong emotion coming through, especially a certain sense of anger and betrayal.