Panzer Dragoon

Inner Conflict. A battle between desires and needs.

In the shift of fists...

Between the almost stifled scream of a file on a sword.

Between the jingle of knives,

No warcry is born.

 

Id in her jurrassic-like mode, begs to sigh.

Stumbling over the Ego, punctuating each fall with a curse.

With a fist.

With a shot of breath so hard... it expands its shell.

With grit teeth; the combustion laying in wait.

 

Claws touch...

Fangs kiss...

Id is equipped with steel heart, autonomously pumping screams...

Compactly compatible with the micro chip of an all star decadent...

Engineered to parasitically breathe guilt.

Teaching with practical methods its tantra tantrums.

 

Alive.

Licking its claws and fangs in anticipation,

The Id enchants the host with a black kiss.

A black whip?

 

A black kiss.

Reviews

[Jason Henry]

Freud would applaud this...but since he's not here i guess i will have to do haha! I have often seen ID as a sort of monster as it lacks control and is "decadent" as you so rightly put it.

"Id in her jurrassic-like mode, begs to sigh.
Stumbling over the Ego, punctuating each fall with a curse.
With a fist." ---> brilliant and accurate. nothing short of...

oh and the end...lol, unique as hell! but well received and appreciated...

[Emily B]

In the shift, between what was and what will be . . . what an amazing way to start this . . .

[Mr. Misanthrope]

Wow!!! Such an amazing poem! I love it for so many reasons, many of which aren't coming to mind right now, but one of them surely is that I loved reading this poem slowly. The words flow very well, naturally enticing the reader, taking them to some distant fantasy realm.
I especially loved the line: 'Teaching with practical methods its tantra tantrums.' It just lit up when I read it. No idea why.

-Luke