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Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Tiger Blood

Naked I stand.......tiger blood I drink.  White sheep skinned fur hangs from the back of my neck, falling like a cape and dragging against the muddy ground behind me.  I stand tall and sharp, my head turned to the side like my sword....jagged and on point, down and in, ready and steady.  Blood runs down my face as I close my black eyes and drink, drink what has given me great success....and even more failure.  My double edge sword cuts my hand while I spin my blade around and around, taking out the skin from my palms like a grapefruit.  A rhythm warrior, only left with a steady rhythm of nightmares.  Nightmares that keep this fearless man in fear, while dreams stream out, long and cold under a bridge where water runs under, while others walk over.  Tiger blood cuts tallies from the point of his blade into the pierce of his skin, one by one men have taken their last breath, as a cut from their skin now lays at rest on his.  This blood called tiger makes men do extreme acts of good or you use this curse is up to you, the reader.  This blog is about the man who gave you and I this curse.  A blog about a man who came about tiger blood and what he did with it.  This blog is about you and me.  

His home is made up of other's abandoned problems, left for dead skeletons, and forgotten relationships.  He sleeps on rocks that have been beaten by the tide, as the sand from the wash of others builds walls high and strong under his bridge of protection and capture.  The stream runs red with blood, as the bridge above marches with new hopes and dreams, as the warrior underneath battles demons left behind from the white sheep above.  Drinking the blood from dead skeletons gave him the strength beyond anything anyone has seen.  The strength to swing his sword violently through the guts of the ones above.  The naked warrior promised with every drink from the red stream, that he would take vengeance on those weak minded souls who left their own skeletons to die and rot, turn sour and be forgotten......he would take his sword and bounty those very people who gave him the curse he carried inside of him......the curse of extreme emotion.  Heads fell to the ground with each swing of his sword, rolling heads were then thrown to the side for bears and birds.  His rusted sword had to cut at times rather than slice, for the past of the ones he was killing made his swing heavy and his sword dull from left in the rain emotions.  Tiger blood pumped through this warrior's body so hard that he at times would scream at the headless bodies before ripping their hearts out and drinking the dripping blood that was left, trying to move like traffic in New York.  He drank blood and became strong, he drank the blood from those who didn't know how to use the blood they had.  He opened his mouth and began then to eat their bones.  One by one he slaughtered every single person who walked over the bridge above his home, drinking blood to gain endurance, and eating their bones to build strength.  His face was covered in blood splatter and spaghetti looking guts.  His knee would meet the ground as his hand would enter their chest, ripping out everything that once laid like a puzzle.....complicated but complex and scattered.  Hundreds dead, that murdered a hundred themselves.....he was finally feeling good about himself.  He felt he was doing right.....was he?  I have no idea....I'm just telling the story of the man who once took bounty on those who drew blood to a stream that he drank out of.  Blood from skeletons he adopted and took in....literally.  Skeletons who gave him strength and nightmares.  I am telling you a story of the man who killed hundreds......and saved hundreds.  

5,000 years ago, this warrior under the bridge of red, made love to a woman a few years later.......a woman that was immediately infected by this curse.  She soon became the first female hunter all the tribes had ever seen.  She killed more animals than all the male hunters combined.  She somehow felt she had the strength of a million people.......what she didn't she had the strength of a million skeletons.  

You the reader......let me introduce our long lost relatives.  

The Curse 2016 

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