Shadow Soilders of the Empire
Katana sheathed
head high
adrenalin pumped
step with steps of air
creep upon the unaware
stride up behind
slide silently out the sword
fingers griped into hair
blade of steel hard and cold
one quick flex and blood is shed
now my enemy is dead
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
