Formerly Badass Horrible Poetry

This isn't just a poetry blog. Let's be honest, a lot of what I post is poetry but there are more often than not also postings about short stories. I do try to keep this blog separate from my others and post strictly creative work here. Some of it will be better than others, and much of it is in first or second draft stage when posted. These are raw works, and there will be spelling and grammar troubles at times because I use this blog to gauge what works and what doesn't. I use it as a place to get feedback. That's the reason it is "horrible". Because it's not finished-- And why should it be? We all want feedback but most of us are too afraid to put ourselves out there.

Welcome to my word.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Anyone who played Videogames under the Covers when you were Supposed to be Asleep

sitting alone, in my bed, in the dark
I free cities. men, women and child.
The darkness blinds from all but the holy light of the screen
so bright I feel the warmth of an artificial
that one, there,
glowing above
as I witness my friends abandon the cause
leaving me
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

The enemies models dart around
and my blade is poised, en-gaurd,
to strike.
Two maybe three moves:
a thrust and chop then fillet.
If all else fails,
I will splinter their bones
with magic.
Invisible, my fingers move, marionetting
a hand to swing a guillotine and
sing a death knell.
I can run forever
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

They will attack from every what way,
but nothing can
my ascent of the damned man. and I will walk
surrounded by fire
burning to strive, striving to teach, teaching to learn, learning to love and
loving to burn.
Endless cycles echo into the night as dawn's petty pace draws close
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

There is but one final battle fuming on the horizon
and I can almost feel
the drums of
behind an eight bit soundtrack.
As my reapers prepare,
I drag my only remaining brother
to the rocks.
His parchment face camouflages
richly into the tombstone pixels.
-a light in the hall flashes a warning-
They march and I walk
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

-A Loud Wrapping Upon My Door-
my sword should shine lighting
in the sun
but creeping stains of rust
forshadow its honor
-able end. 
i have brought a stick to a Gun Fight.
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

-the door creeks open- 
and so I dance on my own grave.

no more light in my hand
no more light in the hall
my electronic universe is holed up on the shelf.
I take off my glasses to think
of school days tomorrow
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark. 

©2010-2014 Lex Vex

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