Stealth is...
the tread of the feet.
Splash!!!
the scattering of the puddle
beneath unsteady stomps.
It walks,
where angels fear to tread.
Swish-swash...
Tap- tap.
The basic whispers of sound that
sound like drums in my mind.
I fear the SILENCE
more than I do, the enemy.
Tip- toe.
Tip- toe
I count the steps,
and my mass is a mess.
My heart-beat goes wild
as I stare into my palms, open wide.
Why am I afraid of the paradigm?
Why am I terrified of my normal?
The knob turns ever so slight,
as darkness engulfs the light.
I look up and stare at the beast,
deceitfully stealth
with a smile that takes up its whole face.
Underneath the make up
the evil could not be hid.
Ever so stealthy, It sealed my fate.
Deceitfully,
I was the catch, and now the bait.
Dread arose,
as the door squeaked close.
I can not feign strength,
my will to fight is as weak as a cliche prose.
The stealth has become my bane
While it was once the flame
that spurred a fire in my dead heart
and burned within my soul, a passion.
I recalled.
I remembered.
I shudder.
I suffer.
Again, I am forced into the depth of death,
Alas, it has become my fate.
I sense my hope waver,
Like a struck matchstick
struggling to stay lit
in the midst of the wind.
Silently,
I was stolen.
Stealthily,
I am overtaken and lost.
Nevertheless,
I SEARCH...
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