Her throat was punctured dry

Woke up startled, scared and sorry
The darkness was all encompassing
And her throat punctured dry


Haunted by the spectre of dying in forty years
The horror and screaming arriving too soon
The fear amassing its fan base within her mind


Her head spinning as if in a gory safari

Her mind wildly, chaotically trumpeting

This was her war cry


Her resolve would be her defensive spears

Her mind, body and spirit her platoon

Calmness in fear, her prevailing wind




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