Cloudy with a chance of F**k it

Run! They said. But your feet were designed for kicking a** and putting boots to dark places.

Hide! They said. But your face turned toward the enemy And you smiled that terrible smile.

Fight! They said. And you picked up your sword. Shields are for the weak. Those that play the game with both eyes open. To you, the only home caution should find Is the wind. And you place it there. Firmly. This isn’t a battle This is a massacre, And you’re going to make it as one-sided  as Murphy to buttered toast.

The field is yours. Streak it red with blood. Fill it with the fallen. Let your sword find a home in heart after heart. Rip them limb from limb. Let the fire within rage, Hotter than the fire of a thousand suns. A raging inferno of wrath and madness, Twisted in an orgy of passion and wanton desire, Bearing the red child of rage.

Feel your fingers grow numb with the passing of the sun And drop your sword in favour of the gauntlet.

Let loose. Putting fist to face in a dance of fury. A broken nose here, A fractured skull there. Let your hand find the dagger And sink it in deep. Again and again. Let the clouds cover the sun, Darkening an already dark scene. You won’t stop. You know the monster within. And you embrace it. All of it.

Till the storm comes. First as a gentle rain, A drizzle from pregnant clouds as water breaks. A precursor to the lightning, To the thunder and screams. Your armor is in pieces, And the water seeps in. Your enemies are in pieces, And the water seeps in. You glance at your hands, The red slowly falling apart in flecks, battered by the heavy droplets. And you look up to the dark sky. And see the darkness beyond. The darkness within.

And you pick up your sword. And embrace the storm. The wind with its chilling embrace, The water caressing your bloody cheek.

And you smile.

For tomorrow it begins again. The Oracle had said something about this, Had she not? Cloudy with a chance of …

#Poetry #Motivation #Determination #Darkness #Hope