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How come they not understand?

How can they not hear the call?



My heart beats in the rhytm of wardrums,

My chest is held together by iron bars,

I have so many scars, from the blades of cold stainless steel.

I cannot count them - anymore.



How come they not see the beauty?

How can they not feel this irresistable hunger?

"I want to get ripped for summer" they say.

"How do I get a sixpack?" they say.



How can they think of pussy?



Do they not feel this - fire.

Burning.

Breathing.

Consuming.



"you dont have a heart" she said.



I took a knife and cut one on the left side of my chest.



"Now I do" I said.

And the scar is still there.



Pain is weakness leaving the body.

And this proves my strenght.

I do not feel pain anymore.

I do not feel hunger anymore.

I do not feel tired anymore.

But they will never understand.



A warrior never rests.

Because there is always another battle ahead, waiting to be fought.



And won.

The rain drops like dead bodies,

Soaked in their blood,

The smell of worn-out leather, mud and sweat kills the concept of feminism,

Muscles tensing,

My breath is as cold as ice.



The darkness - this whole place - I know one thing for sure - I´m back.

Back in my octagon, and I welcome my enemies.



An undefeated gladiator, a predator of nature - awaits his call.

COMMENTS

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Dragonrouge
00:33 Jun 14 2010

Huh!

A wonderful poem!

Post more!

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BunesUth
11:22 Jun 15 2010

Very well written

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