Beat me to death
While blood drips down my face
Continue to knock the life out of me,
But you will never see me hand over my pride.
Fight me,
And as I'll use my limbs as a sword,
My head as a shield.
Strong as an ox
My horns charges into the enemy with no mercy
I spit on the thought of defeat.
Coward, you say?
Let me see you gouge out your eyes and use them as bullets
Your elbows as a dagger
Your knees as a wrecking ball annihilating an entire city.
Chugging down insults as if it was beer
I am Jesus with my body nailed down
I dare you to break me
Skin off my flesh and serve it to the King as a meal
Let him have a taste of the iron in my heart.
YOU ARE READING
Hydrangea
PoetryApology and gratitude. The act of developing a deeper understanding between two people. Heartfelt and honest emotions. I admire the meaning of this flower. Not only is its beauty captivating, but what she symbolizes has my heart clenching onto her e...
