I hear the hiss,
Of the knife, whistling
Through the air.
My stomach goes numb
As I feel the slash.
And then fire!
It burns! Oh, how it burns!
But it lends something,
Clarity and anger.
It helps,
More than I can say,
To overpower my opponent.
The adrenaline gone,
I feel the pain.
It is draining.
I see the blood,
So much of it.
All mine.
My head feels heavy,
I am sinking.
So much for my first kill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem