Strip the flesh off the bone
pull it off, pull it off! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
A tug of war, tearing at your face.
They fly in circle, and sweep in for the kill
I yell 'Vultures be Gone', but they still
consume the corpses, piece by piece they are destroyed.
Watching is tearing at my soul,
watching them swarm across the battlefield.
Am I alive, or am I dead?
I don't know.
Covered in dry blood, my vision in red haze
as my eyes are being clawed out..
I'm lying on the ground, dazed and confused
yet there is little doubt I'm trapped within a maze.
'Vultures be Gone'
You cut a hole passed my sternum
and steal the soul from my chest.
This one is more clear, but I see so much missing that I can't fully enjoy the poem or prose as it is. Itis a good creative idea but it needs to be developed more. GW62
another powerful piece, are you truly 15 or 16, if so you write with great animism, keep it up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
oh my lord you've done it!