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Poem

Here I stand
with my Claymore, Agony
strapped to my back
and metaphysical forearm spikes
running up my arms,
     slanting towards my elbows.
Winds howl around me
    filled with knives of rhetoric
tearing at me like teeth.
Unleashing my spiked chain
from its pouch on my belt
I grip my already bloodied,
reverse crescent axe
and jump off the ledge
        into the fray
swinging the chain 
  around the closest neck
I pull them close
       then sever their head
with my axe
    releasing a fountain of blood
towards the heavens.

Morbid scimitars
  flash before my eyes
    as I lean back
narrowly escaping the attack,
a downward swing of my chain
spins the enemy
     and I hack 
through his spine with my axe.
A Morningstar filled with delirium
   smashes into my shoulder
and I drop my axe
         but retaliate
with a skull splitting slash
of my clawed hysteria glove
           stopping within
    the eye sockets,
shaking the carcass off
I pull out my Claymore.

Whirling my chain overhead
 I release it
   and it savagely
wraps up an unfortunate,
dropping him mid charge.
Snatching my sadistic,
spiked headed War hammer
I separate another
    from his legs
        with my sword.

At the last second
I catch the shaft
of a tainted spear
within my forearm spikes
    snapping it
then bury my hammer’s head
in his chest.
Unfortunately
   the body draws me down,
      leaving me open
and an infected mace
smashes into my skull,
but as I fall Agony
serrates the seven mortals
with my death spin,
and as I lay there
spitting up blood
the detrimental maul
splatters my brains
             upon the battlefield.

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