Shane Bowman

Video Games

Aspiring graphic designer and part-time poet.






Pixelated crystals pour down the hour glass
As the blind hunchback dodges the brutal bomb blast;
Heroic, stationary acts fill red-stained eyes
Oblivious to the bare gathering nearby;

Hollow smiles are exchanged around the table,
Each ending in a glum glance at the empty seat;
Midnight errands to the pantry sub the hunger
And credit the longing of twilight listeners;

A sad and unjust game where victors are victims,
Where bullets and blood replace spiritual darkness;
Every deepening plot further shallowing
A life's meaningful action, purposeful story ...

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