Dead Man's Contest Poem by Kami Haha

A heart pounding,
blood pumping,
exhilarating, run.
Through the woods,
over the sticks,
ending only when one of us are dead.

He's caught up to me. I turn to face him.
To face my Dead Man.
Dead Man's Walk.
The walk no man should ever have to face.
The one who finds the sword first,
must plunge it into the other's heart.
This time, I have no weapon.
Meaning my time has finally come.

The sword is plunged,
through my heart, my soul.
My blood spurts in every direction,
even on his face,
but he doesn't care;
he only wants to see his family again.
I see him push it forward still,
but there's no need;
I sit as a ghost in a tree,
watching. Waiting.

I join the other's, the souls of the lost men
of the Dead Man contest.
A man is lost to this foolishness every year.
This time, it was me.
And none of the souls of my former opponents,
young or old,
look happy to see me.