A Battle for Turf

 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 of blood on the mass. This distance from hand to mouth, many miles of wages a whisper rages.

Onward, the last 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 puppets are 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 dispersed to trod patrol; in the jaws of life

Kill shot when the body grinds 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

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