Lonely White Poem by Jacob Biehl

The swimming, feeding, bloody, chaos mob,
not part a whole this shark in blue am mine,
the test for survival is but my job,
the meat is more tis' trial, but life to thine,

In solitaire my life in this tis' kept,
tis' doomed destiny is but my own,
I rule with cold fins, but past 'ad wept,
few tried, all died, 'et I'm not overthrown.

with teeth of thine own might, I shall destroy,
to crush foes armor, to rip, shred, and flay,
to celebrate glad victory, my joy.
to fight, as always, tis' again to fray.

Tis' aged, am thine, doth start tis' dance of rites.
Thy body, tis' cease, tis' thine kin's trail, doth light.