The Shadow Boxer

fists wrapping against these walls of thought
blood smeared along the tapestry as memoirs of what's been lost
to reflect what hides in is nothing more than a ghost
deterioration exhumes
writhing around in the flames of superior disguise

bleeding in waves
treating the flames
breathing disgust

feeding on this hunger, addicted to this drug

this wrinkled promise can't calm or disguise this disease
this wrinkled promise won't warm or settle you black disbelief

licking your scars
treating not your wounds

weakened limbs
feeding shame

breathing waves
treating the flames

abusing your guilt with this drug

fight to obtain this glory
blood reveals virility
and you're losing such humanity

you're still opening wounds

dislocated soldier

telemetry can't get you out of this infernal room
feel the war exceed no abdication

Reviews

[Shananina]

Hmm, what do I think this is about? From the title obviously I thought it was about a boxer however upon reading it, now I imagined War, and survival. To be more specific, pysical survival not mental or emotional. I pictured a man in fatigues dirty and tired and just doing his job to get by. Was I close? Probably not, but I enjoyed reading this and I enjouyed using my imagination. Great writing! Thankyou for sharing.