Read Poems by
The Turning Tables
And there it was, my uncanny damnation. With big black eyes and an eerie
grin upon the face of evil. My soul torn from It's owner to Him that feeds. To
whom that starves. My bones begin to tremble and my strength seems to
render; but for my soul, is not yet taken. I hold my own, for it is I, that is all is
left. My damnation has all but taken me alive, but not I will it take 'til there is
nothing but air to find.
As his smirk finds new growth, laughter roars from below my feet. Bones
begin to break, strength is on a string; but for I who's uncanny predicament
unfolds, I laugh just as so in fear. A grumble from down within grows stronger
and louder until the very fate of death had turned. Turned upon my enemy. I take
back what was once mine; Breakable bones that can repair, a soul that'll always
care, and a fighter that never failed. All, all are mine.