This is the third poem I tried to write when taking up writing as a hobby seriously. I had some weird obsession with trying to be as bleak as possible, which explains the violent imagery.
Also, the poem has eleven lines - I have started a series of poems, with each poem having eleven lines each. If you like the poetry (and I hope you do), I hope you're excited!
A Large, Very Translucent Opening into the Future
We are prepared. The door knocks.
We do not dare challenge this. In they
enter. We greet them with pleasure. In
they go. They carry a large sword, cloaked
in a grey cape. We gesture for them to
come to us. They oblige; we have power.
They take their sword and slash our souls.
We laugh. We smile. Next go our
fingers. They drop, shatter like plates.
And next go we. We are no longer there.
We were prepared. We have arrived.
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