PRIZE FIGHT

I met the devil many times before death walked through my door. He was inside both my head and my bed. He claimed that he knew my name and that god told him stories about my moments of glory and how you did not scare a person who has no fear that I will jump into the abyss and teach you, bastards, how to swim while I sunbathe in the rays that are no longer a sin.

My voice is getting louder as my actions speak. My words are something everybody and anyone can hear. I'm waiting for the rain to fall so I know my call will be answered, and I no longer have to wait for all the riches I was promised if I chose a side, but both life and death hide from me because they know that I will tell the stories all the things that I saw have seen and will see

I see those lights starting to go on. They are bringing me some cosmic shine. I put my gloves on for this go around; I'm a prize fighter, a modern-day warrior waiting to go head to head, toe to toe in a 15-round title fight. The championship to be won is life. So I will take the punches to either win or they have to carry me away.