Poetry

Knife for knife. 
Shadows were chasing, 
the slain. 
Flawed, you were 
at wrong place at the 
wrong time. 
You need to learn, how 
to die anonymously. 
 
It was always extreme. 
The temper, the love, 
the hate. 
You could offer yourself 
for idiopathic study. 
 
A trail of broken limbs 
partially leads to truth. 
Adrenaline can cause 
you to shut the mouth. 
 
The organized violence, ultimately 
triumphs.