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Shackles

  • Writer: Aritsou
    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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