Shackles
- Aritsou
- Feb 11, 2020
- 1 min read
Still air,
Silent breaths,
Eyes filled with hate,
The chains cling to him,
The man lashes out
To the darkness,
Clawing at it
With vice and malice.
A figure emerges,
Poised and Arrogant.
It grins sadistically,
Ignoring its whims.
It strikes the man,
Carving a scar into him.
The figure laughs
And disappears.
The shackles scream,
Crying in Agony
As his blood rains down.
The man claws at it,
Seething with
Violent rage.
He ravages it,
Decimating its form.
It laughs hysterically,
Smiling to its demise.
The figure is gone
And the man is victorious.
Yet, all he could hear,
Was the shackles' laugh.
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