The Kill Of Victory Poem by John Shea

The power running through my veins
Reminds my physical being to refrain

Running on empty is my mind
Evil thoughts not really mine

Where they come from know not I
I react to them with but a sigh

Mayhem and murder I fear not
I enjoy the feeling quite a lot

I question the deeds with my empty head
Somehow the question ends up dead

Power wells up in my body untrained
Like a Pit Bull on a long bloody chain

The kill of victory is but a crime
It makes me vicious
In its furtive design.