Teke Teke a Japanese Myth

It still hurts from the cutting train
And I can’t find my bleeding legs
I hate this unbearable pain
So I pass it on to my “friends”

My blood seeps out with cold hatred
As I draw out my crimson scythe
Their slow, brutal deaths awaited
In the same way I lost my life

My victim’s eyes grow wide in fear
When I swing my starving weapon
He bleeds a single unseen tear
The cloth on his stomach reddens

Half his body slumps to the ground
And my next victim has been found
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace