The Warrior

I am the punisher,

The mighty gunslinger.

An empty

Shell

With soulless, marble, dolls eyes.

The grotesque horrors of everyday existence

No longer phase my hide.

Mud fills my ears

Muffling out the noises of silence.

Like a phantom that can’t leave its haunting,

I am stranded in the barren wasteland

Of predetermined rest.

I have only one unobtainable purpose.

But I am the all-mighty God

And with an augmented hand,

I will strike down my wrath upon the all-singing mudslingers

And chameleons

That threaten my rule as the king of all.

The forest is my homestead

The fire my domain.

Brimstone my high.

Blood my sustenance.

What’s that smell?