Poetry. - The Battle in my Room

I stood in front of you,

And you in front of me.

What do I see?

All I see, is a mere flea.

You stand there, adorned in beautiful armor

But you're shaking,

Your mind is racing,

Because I am the one you're facing.

But I'm no different

I clutch my weapon in my hands,

Wondering if this was all planned,

About how you left in the winter, but came to play in the sand.

You make your move,

Moving closer and closer to my face

As I move back, trying to create space

Then, it turned into a race

I stumble out into the hallway,

Tripping as I went,

The ground becoming like cement

But you weren't content

So I begin to plan,

I watch and wait as you return to your place,

Swarming with hate,

Ignoring your fate

I couldn't take it anymore.

My weapon glowed with might

And I rushed towards you, my passion bright.

You winced, seeing my light

I slashed at you and swung at you

With ounces of hesitation.

But you weren't my limitation,

I was just going according to my calculations

You fell to the ground,

But you wouldn't give up.

It was though you could never run out of luck

I was awestruck.

So I struck you again,

And you fell to your death

While I caught my breath

Your carcass was all that was left.

You made a mistake.

You should have never tried.

We both know why you died.

You had no stride.

That battle in my room,

Is one I'll never forget.

I'll never forget your regret,

Nor my determined mindset.

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