Blizzard of the Shadow Lord

Behind my chamber door as I stare ever so weary at the stain on the floor I hear a pound.

As I stretch my body, hands skyward, I turn to answer my caller and from where I sit I rise to stand and listen to another kind of its sound.

Inward pours uniformed gentlemen with a burst, guns drawn and flashlights aimed in my face, and I sink hopelessly to the floor where the crimson flow circles ever more.

Cold steel snares my wrists, binds them together and as I ponder what flesh wonders I might want to explore I hear words uttered to me.

Still troubled by the stain I ignore the crude language spoken to me, believe it is a harsh wind to deplore, and I wrench to be free.

There is no justice, these words I declare.

There is only injustice, these words I dare.

The law is a high horse we can never ride.

We are the dirt under its feet and the rotten wind at its side.

Anguish seeks reward in times such as these.

The body of lies you can never please.

Reviews

[Demi Rose]

this is something amazingly done. i liked it.

[Fire Tulip]

This is excellent work. Defineately something you should be proud of.