The Blade

A poem about conflict.

The Blade

White light please surround me
As I walk through a dark alley
I hear their gravel voices

Click, the sound of a blade
Time goes slow
This is no charade

My steps are noticed
As someone exclaims 
"He's here lets do this"

Dawning all black attire
My eyes burn them 
With white-hot fire

My feet no longer made a sound
The gravel voices gone
As I walk on my path til' dawn