'Grave Is A Grim Horse' Poem by Katerina Val

Grave is the difficulty you use to stare at your opponent
The knife you throw to pull it through his chest
The regret, through it you console by the terror of the end
Grave is your crime and your pretentious regret

Crave is the technique you use to fix the rights
The broken screws you use to toughen all the easy fights
The instability in which your silence cares
Grave is all the pains you refused, all the passivity he bares

And then, when the gun is loaded, he still dares, he still dares
And then when your heart is bloated, he still cares, oh he still cares

"Grave is a grim horse" as Steve Von Till has said
But staring now through my opponent's grey eyes
I see his bad and easy sparkles are all dead
As I am staring at the grim sides of this grave
I see its stones are all curved
By the backing off of death

I can sense the harshness in the heat
I can feel the dryness in his beat
The things he doesn't want to feel
That's what I get as real
And the things that he doesn't want to see
That's what I get as his strongest fear

I try to pretend I stand here
So that my opponent, cold and fresh by the hit
Gives me one more part of that wrecked opportunity
Less death for me
Less pain for him

But we both can't feel
This grave is open
This grave is closed
When our chances get too broken
Indeed
"grave is a grim horse"

And then, when the gun is loaded, he still dares, he still dares
And then when your heart is bloated, he still cares, oh he still cares