Fight

Standing before an invisible army, The boy stands watching from behind their hidden lines, Peering into their smiling cheeks and jowls. Returning the smirking favor, he holds up his electric hands, Whose dendrites trickle lightning from his metaphysical nerves. As the air ionizes around his polarized body, The army becomes visible. They stand there sitting on four horses, Whose manes flicker in flaming sinew. Smoke pours from their nickering lips, As the four soldiers stare down the boy. Quivered arrows sit upon their backs, And scimitars wait in sheathes slung on their sides, Dribbling with the blood of their apocalyptic devastation. This is the end of the world, A child against human holocaust. Enraged and gifted with supernatural gifts, He is Earth's last attempt at survival. The horsemen raise their weapons, And the boy grabs the winds; Personified nature against unnatural annihilation. Genocide, war and human strife are but the means of political apocalypse, A game of chess played by psychopaths' pawns, rooks, knights and bishops. We can either continue fleeing from the freedom stripped away by wars above, Or fight with Earthen might to return to a time where peace is fueled by love.