10:33pm, now entering the rowdy tranquil of a room,
They looked up from their lonely embrace
Completely and utterly stunned.
Her emerald eyes stared back longingly,
Naïve yet guilty of the betrayal.
Her accomplice sat to the side;
A slight smirk pulling at his left cheek.
The ever depressed cynic within me was unsurprised:
Beneath her woolen clothing,
I often caught glimpses of her snarling teeth.
The six-foot stranger stood staring,
Forcing the first fist from me.
Eye to eye, we stood, with fierce intensity;
Our violent gaze unbroken
By the slight difference in height.
To the drunken audience, he looked like a dog
Pitifully waiting to be kicked lifeless.
But my angle told a different story:
Of an enraged bloodthirsty bull spotting red,
About to charge the whining matador.
Now, face to face, his breath reeked
Of the dominating stench of alcohol.
I backed away from it just a little,
Only to raise the Mongrel’s confidence.
The key is Maturity- the unspoken code of conduct.
The drunken audience seemed forewarned
Of the impending eruption,
As they wisely stepped towards the wall.
The bottle in his hand discovered destruction
On a nearby surface, as glass smithereens fleet away.
He was distracted, unprepared.
Twisting, I delivered a heavy blow below his belt.
The fight was already won, but a savage instinct took over.
Iscariot never felt a shame quite like this.
10:53pm... "Already? Time really does fly."
thanks for reading. c4c
Last edited by ggmIdas at Mar 22, 2008,
Wow, that's really good.