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The Panther Paces

 

Dark powerful scathing

I lumber nimbly,

 Muscles rolling like a freight train.

 

Incarceration.

Incineration.

The words are synonymous,

And I have been reduced to ash.

 

My shadow stretches thinly before me,

Black on black wrought upon cold concrete.

 

An extension of my being,

It throws itself against the bars,

But they throw themselves back,

And burn score brand me.

 

That is their mistake,

For now they see only my name

pantherus pardus.

 

They forget my history my blood my instinct.

They forget that I am an oil slick,

And with only the slightest spark

I will ignite.

 

But when I have lost nearly everything,

 

Patience is mine.

Posted Jan 21, 2012 at 7:55pm

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