Frederick Samson

Walking The Path Of Wrath

Heckled hairs, fisted fingers,
Lips lowered to the left,
Nostrils flared as red mist lingers,
Growing greater with every breathe,

Peeled teeth, chin dipped in,
A ferocious frown hides his eyes,
Concealed beneath, an invictus grin,
As shadows fall down from the skies.

As rain reigns over his unsteered stare,
Blinkless he remains throughout,
Like an untamed flame without fear or care,
As instinct drains away any doubt.

Edged elbows, shoulders set,
Arms untied as they ride either side,
Knees creased, chest out pressed,
He stays calm as hes prized to a stride.

Lightening explodes declaring terror,
As night creeps closer with every sound,
The road implodes from the unairing tremor,
As his tightened toes grip the ground.


Forked fractures escape his standing,
Like tainted veins rupturing the earth,
They stalk and capture all with its branding,
As it takes claim to all in its birth.

Thunder snaps like cracked glass,
Fire breathes from beneath with a rage,
A hunters unmasked from within a black mass,
As the beast is released from its cage.

It follows its prey as its prowl is resumed,
Like unshackled hounds no longer confined,
Bellows echo through the rain as it howls at the moon,
The shattered surrounds leaving nowhere hide.

Fearless he treads to where from the growls dwell,
He\'s prepared and ready to fight,
As he nears he\'s swallowed into the bowls of hell,
Undeterred as he is fed to the night.