A Battle Turf Poem by Alex Alexander

A Battle for Turf

Living on toxic exhaustion, colored behind a killer's instinct. From conception to birth; life unfolds over the requiem encounter when one becomes a trillion: hunting a hunter.
It is a survival game, where many are killed and brought to defeat at the legion's victory
Journey of life, a dangerous place marching on. After the clash never to forget the crash blood on the mass. This distance from hand to mouth, many miles wages a whisper rages.
Onward, final frontier, next millennium artificial silence: sweeps onto its focal point,
with drones in the shadows; between worlds
where fair game circular as our way: in heat-seeking missiles under satellites stealing time such meanies with dark frequencies, twisted
mechanic puppet driven between parallel forces in the shattering of things; life is life.
So we never think twice, about virtual freedom.
Slowly dissolve, when it hurts to remember out
of the sourcebook. Into nowhere, a departure from within a killing machine beyond attachment; mindscape once a nurse, now disperse to trod patrol; in the jaws of life
Killshot when the body grind out: beneath kill first paint the blood later, becomes a ghost loop; you kiss tomorrow goodbye with the Apache code, collective reality heavenly footsteps traveling half light fast forward; faceless dark angelic humanoid in a constant
State of subtle genocide effect.
War tool chess