I hear the chanting
like a broken spell.
I duck my head down
as my black strands
engulfs my face.

My eyes swim through
the waves of people.
As they break
any redemption.

I grab the only
hope I have left
like a shield,
but the dagger like
tongues stab
all the protection.

So I bleed and
fall as everyone
has a turn.

And maybe I'm the
innocent in this world,
but more then likely
I'm the one with
a crimson blade.

12/24/2009

Posted on 12/24/2009
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin