The secret when I strike, and I do, is for my inner times my outer, fused to be complete.
Mentally vibrating, fear, physically triggered, fearless, spiritually declined, frost fear.
Once the shadow fades by the hate injected, my blood freeze with the cold, driven by my mind who only do the know in one action.
Before I can think my brain burns the flames, numbers consume my vision into second sight.
My hearing explodes multiplying ten fold, .equalizing all earth bound sounds, springing into the effect, a projection of what is next to happen.
The rule to the why I survive, instint to act while you still think.
The bones which snaps with the noise which collapse around our knees.
Your spine that breaks before you can beg your please.
And no, I will not leave you alive.
Your drive is past to the way you dived.
The killer in you have to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem